7-23-05
9:32 a.m.
There is an indescribable beauty today. I am on the interstate with Molly, Molly’s mum, Molly’s aunt, and Molly’s sisters. To the west it is overcast, but to the east the clouds all look like they’ve been sucked up by a vacuum cleaner… but I suppose that’s not a pretty enough image. They look more like they’ve been summoned upward by the will of the cherubim, so they’re all slanted toward the sun. The sun, while seeming smaller and paler than is typical, gives me warmth and light by which to write.
We are still in Iowa. The daylight is not full, but instead casts a thin beautiful luminescence over the fields of beans and corn. From the hilltops it seems as thought these fields, cast in light of chilling gorgeousity, go on forever. They look as though one could reach out, touch them, and be forced to marvel at their softness.
We pass a town called Plainfield that is tiny. Its visible components are one miniature water tower, a cemetery, a baseball diamond, and a field for American football. Typical Iowan small town. It takes us about two seconds to pass Plainfield, and we have returned to the middle of nowhere. The landscape is dotted with old white houses, huge red barns, and tall blue Harvestore silos. I think for the first time of home, because there by my computer I have a lamp shaped like a Harvestore silo.
Some people crave familiarity. I have never counted myself among those people. But I might be one.
Nashua is bigger than Plainfield, but still discernable over the treetops are the lights of the ball diamond. We are in Floyd county, and the instant my Coldplay CD finishes, I’ll listen to some Pink Floyd to celebrate.
Showing posts with label America. Show all posts
Showing posts with label America. Show all posts
23 July 2005
12 July 2005
Patriotism
I'm so glad patriotism is popular. There used to be two American flags on my block: mine and my neighbours. Since 9-11, we've got about twenty. God Bless American Dollars. Little window stickers in the backs of cars, flagpoles, the little flags the kids were waving last night at the parade as they stuffed their faces with candy... it's all so magical (if you're a capitalist). The magnets ordering us to support our troops and the media quashing our viewpoints are SO patriotic it makes me want to...defocate, actually. Interesting how you buy that American flag to show your support of American troops and what we're really supporting is the Chinese or Japanese economy. Remember how you drove to the family gathering for Independence Day? Yeah, you drove your Hummer, your big urban assault vehicle, and they don't even have the courtesy to send you an e-mail... thanks for supporting Saudi Arabian Oil!
If you read this, it is most likely that you'll feel angry. And well you should. You might want to send me an angry message; if there's a comment box on this blog, feel free to use that or send me an email at amarcelon@hotmail.com . However, please refrain from profanity and foul language, and try to spell/capitalize/punctuate correctly or you'll be proving my point. Any emails will not be read if you don't specify in the subject what you're emailing about as I have an exclusive junk mail filter. Also, try to bear in mind that I'm a 15-year-old girl from the Midwest. Thanks.
If you read this, it is most likely that you'll feel angry. And well you should. You might want to send me an angry message; if there's a comment box on this blog, feel free to use that or send me an email at amarcelon@hotmail.com . However, please refrain from profanity and foul language, and try to spell/capitalize/punctuate correctly or you'll be proving my point. Any emails will not be read if you don't specify in the subject what you're emailing about as I have an exclusive junk mail filter. Also, try to bear in mind that I'm a 15-year-old girl from the Midwest. Thanks.
12 June 2005
You're Bloody Well Right
Warning - If you're the sort of person who gets songs stuck in your head easily and likes to sing the song you have stuck in your head while in public, don't listen to Supertramp and take offense at strange looks people give you. I was at a graduation party today for my friend Brittney's sister and singing "Bloody Well Right" by Supertramp. In addition to feeling like a billboard (Squier by Fender shirt, Pink Floyd Dark Side Of The Moon cap, Paris Blues jeans... blargenflargle!) I was stared at by several people because I was walking around muttering "You're right, right, you're bloody well right..." to myself. Meep.
I'm so torn. I know I've got three-ish years left until I truly have to think about it, but the choice between U of Iowa and U of BC @ Vancouver is a titanic and difficult one. I know Iowa City to be a truly inspiring place with a wonderful Writer's Workshop, but I also want to familiarise myself with the "scene" and territory of Couver before I move there. Hm. Of course, I want to tour Europe with my friends, see Tuscany and Rome and Vienna and Hamburg (well, maybe not Hamburg, I'm a vegetarian) and London and Paris and Champagne and Edinburgh and all of Wales... *sigh*. I'd like to tour America as well, go to all fifty states. I want to have a box, a small-ish box, each with a very, very small something from each state. I've never seen a bayou, or the Atlantic, or a volcano, or even mountains from anywhere but above. I've never been to my nation's capitol city. I've never seen New York City, or Boston, or Philadelphia. Never been to Alabama, Alaska, Arizona, Arkansas, Colorado, Conneticuit, Delaware, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Idaho, Kansas, Louisiana, Maine, Maryland, Massachusetts, Michigan, Mississippi, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, North Dakota, Ohio, Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island South Carolina, South Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West Virginia, or Wyoming. I've never been outside the United States. There is so much I want to do before I even think about college. What if I die tomorrow and never get to do them? After all, I owe them a lot; they've kept me alive. They're the reasons I have scars and not deep wounds that will never heal. They're the reasons I've never jumped off the bridge by teh grocery store, never sat unmoving on the train tracks, never fallen asleep in the bath, never done drugs or drank (excessive) alcohol. They're the reasons I wear a seatbelt in an automobile and my helmet on a bicycle and clothing that isn't suggestive.
I know now that if I ever wondered what made me love so deeply, laugh so heartily, or cry so forcefully, that I will never wonder again. It is fear. Fear watches over me like a guardian angel, so I take care of myself. I'm not like the status quo, who fear other countries because the government tells them so. I fear not being able to live my life to the fullest. I fear not being able to live out my dreams.
People ask me what I want to do with my life. I nearly gave my high school's guidance consellor a heart attack once because I answered "drive a truck". I've also said "live out of a van", "write books", "run for public office", "meet my future spouse in a bar", "sleep", "make music in a college town", and "be proposed to by someone who offers me a vending machine ring, not because he or she is a cheapskate but because they can't afford it". The truth is, the honest truth, is that I want to be remembered. I want kids to be able to think of me the way I think of John Lennon. I want to be loved and respected by people I never met, by people who were born after I died, by people who think I must have been a good person because I tried my damndest to make a difference, to change things.
However, I'll have a job of doing that...no one even reads my stupid blog.
I'm so torn. I know I've got three-ish years left until I truly have to think about it, but the choice between U of Iowa and U of BC @ Vancouver is a titanic and difficult one. I know Iowa City to be a truly inspiring place with a wonderful Writer's Workshop, but I also want to familiarise myself with the "scene" and territory of Couver before I move there. Hm. Of course, I want to tour Europe with my friends, see Tuscany and Rome and Vienna and Hamburg (well, maybe not Hamburg, I'm a vegetarian) and London and Paris and Champagne and Edinburgh and all of Wales... *sigh*. I'd like to tour America as well, go to all fifty states. I want to have a box, a small-ish box, each with a very, very small something from each state. I've never seen a bayou, or the Atlantic, or a volcano, or even mountains from anywhere but above. I've never been to my nation's capitol city. I've never seen New York City, or Boston, or Philadelphia. Never been to Alabama, Alaska, Arizona, Arkansas, Colorado, Conneticuit, Delaware, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Idaho, Kansas, Louisiana, Maine, Maryland, Massachusetts, Michigan, Mississippi, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, North Dakota, Ohio, Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island South Carolina, South Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West Virginia, or Wyoming. I've never been outside the United States. There is so much I want to do before I even think about college. What if I die tomorrow and never get to do them? After all, I owe them a lot; they've kept me alive. They're the reasons I have scars and not deep wounds that will never heal. They're the reasons I've never jumped off the bridge by teh grocery store, never sat unmoving on the train tracks, never fallen asleep in the bath, never done drugs or drank (excessive) alcohol. They're the reasons I wear a seatbelt in an automobile and my helmet on a bicycle and clothing that isn't suggestive.
I know now that if I ever wondered what made me love so deeply, laugh so heartily, or cry so forcefully, that I will never wonder again. It is fear. Fear watches over me like a guardian angel, so I take care of myself. I'm not like the status quo, who fear other countries because the government tells them so. I fear not being able to live my life to the fullest. I fear not being able to live out my dreams.
People ask me what I want to do with my life. I nearly gave my high school's guidance consellor a heart attack once because I answered "drive a truck". I've also said "live out of a van", "write books", "run for public office", "meet my future spouse in a bar", "sleep", "make music in a college town", and "be proposed to by someone who offers me a vending machine ring, not because he or she is a cheapskate but because they can't afford it". The truth is, the honest truth, is that I want to be remembered. I want kids to be able to think of me the way I think of John Lennon. I want to be loved and respected by people I never met, by people who were born after I died, by people who think I must have been a good person because I tried my damndest to make a difference, to change things.
However, I'll have a job of doing that...no one even reads my stupid blog.
19 May 2005
BEHOLD!
The apocalypse has come. It really has... only we can prevent it. If we got off our sorry American backsides and figured out what the word "free" means, what the actual concept our nation was built around entails, we could avoid the apocalypse. Ha! I have found my new purpose in life... to attempt to use my Blog to enlighten the populace. Maybe it'd be better if people started to come...
I'm going to be talking about some controversial stuff. I'm going to try to tell you things as I see them... but I'd like to know how other people see them, too. If you'd like to respond to anything I say, I can be reached at amarcelon@hotmail.com (please use a subject of "Blog Response", otherwise I won't open your mail), or at the screenname Sebhar on www.elftown.com, www.elfpack.com, and www.cathug.com. Among others, but we'll start there for now.
I'm going to be talking about some controversial stuff. I'm going to try to tell you things as I see them... but I'd like to know how other people see them, too. If you'd like to respond to anything I say, I can be reached at amarcelon@hotmail.com (please use a subject of "Blog Response", otherwise I won't open your mail), or at the screenname Sebhar on www.elftown.com, www.elfpack.com, and www.cathug.com. Among others, but we'll start there for now.
18 May 2005
Poem!
Watch the people herd by –
Cattle in uniform
Striped polo shirts accented by jeans
Blue, artfully torn by a
Twelve-year-old Chinese kid
In a sweatshop on the flipside of the world
Watch the people herd by –
Cattle in uniform
Ruffled miniskirts and alien hair
All perfect, straightened, ironed, crisp, yet
Faded and patched, either too tight or too loose
Too long or too short, never fitting just right.
Watch the people herd by –
Cattle in uniform
Not thinking for themselves; not thinking for others
In fact, not thinking at all
Content to succumb to mob psychologies instituted by… fear
Certainly not by the American errorists
Next time you cry, watch the people herd by
Humans in uniform fight no real wars.
Cattle in uniform
Striped polo shirts accented by jeans
Blue, artfully torn by a
Twelve-year-old Chinese kid
In a sweatshop on the flipside of the world
Watch the people herd by –
Cattle in uniform
Ruffled miniskirts and alien hair
All perfect, straightened, ironed, crisp, yet
Faded and patched, either too tight or too loose
Too long or too short, never fitting just right.
Watch the people herd by –
Cattle in uniform
Not thinking for themselves; not thinking for others
In fact, not thinking at all
Content to succumb to mob psychologies instituted by… fear
Certainly not by the American errorists
Next time you cry, watch the people herd by
Humans in uniform fight no real wars.
16 May 2005
A Change of Seasons
Well, summer's coming. I'm going to have a lot more free time on my hands... so beware! The rants shall come full-force. I'm drafting one right now about how so few people know what freedom really is anymore. Most of those ignorant to freedom are Americans, creating one of the most depressing situations in history. Ta, all!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
