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pyschogecko

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(no subject) [Apr. 4th, 2010|08:46 pm]
pyschogecko
More often than not I'm sure I won't make it.
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scattered spamming [Feb. 11th, 2008|10:34 pm]
pyschogecko
Funny how you learn something new, and within days are in a situation that applies that new found knowledge. Did it come up that often before you noticed it, or is it really just in season for the first time? My sandals were worn thin while I wasn't looking, but we'll walk it off.

Also, isn't is odd how when you decide to stop looking for someone, they become practically invisible? I stood right in front of you, interrupting during a lull in apparently awkward conversing, and never noticed you till we all walked away and someone gave a half-hearted 'bye' over their shoulder. Don't give me that wide-eyed stare, I didn't do this, I waited. I was the last one of us, as usual. You need to clean the ferret cage, by the way. I'd just as soon give him away.

Then there's the usual. Stupid game. It's like Jumanji, when the game starts playing itself, but you're still stuck going through the motions, brain screaming to halt, while the rest of you just ignores it.

I fear being a hypochondriac, just as I have since I was little. Always remembering that worry when in a new group that hasn''t been introduced to my ridiculous natural born medical oddities. I was always able to make myself sick, but if it's an actual, proven illness (like strep, or pneumonia, etc.) then it's not hypochondria, is it? It's a real, honest-to-whatever diseases/viruses/infections/illnesses, confirmed by numerous doctors on multiple occasions. Would it be abusing my immune system then? Or just coincidental timing? I don't know what to think about that, but the thought wanders in every once in a while. Maybe I imagined the whole thing.

I'm going to miss the Virginia Primaries tomorrow. I'm disapointed in that, but I trust us. Free pancakes at IHOP tomorrow to celebrate.... National Pancake Day? Children's Miracle Network? Not being a part of Lent? A practically national primary? Light school work? Life? How amazingly awesome we happen to be? Sounds good.
My eyes, they burn.
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(no subject) [Aug. 18th, 2007|01:20 am]
pyschogecko
Dear Snarky Cohort,

I need you to know something. For the first time there's this image of a potential future. I'm not sure what to do with it, and in all honesty it kind of frightens me. It's like being on a cave tour for the first time, walking through the narrow, little paths, thinking that maybe this was a boring thing to involve yourself in, when the ceiling opens up into a massive cavern, open to the stars at the top. Pleasant, and slightly overwhelming.

Thanks.
Boston looks lovely from here.

And even if that city never becomes a reality, the part that matters is that it was visible.

Thanks again,

Jenn D.
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sort of. [Aug. 6th, 2007|05:27 pm]
pyschogecko
i am afraid i will never see you again. as the single most influential person to impact my life, the thought that i am so terrible at maintaining contact is rather upsetting. a friend and i were talking last night. she reminded me of you quite a bit. we even played the question game at her request.
we ended up talking about you, and i started tearing up before i had realized i might have been sad because i recognized that this may well be true.
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(no subject) [Jul. 28th, 2007|11:29 pm]
pyschogecko
Occasionally i am taken by this overwhelming fear that this my not be what i want to do or be for the rest of my life. Everytime i look at the work of my peers i slide a bit lower in my self-assured position. Everyone says how modivated they always were, how intently they want what their futures are lining up to be, how inspired they always feel, especially now that they're in art school, surrounded by everything they love.
i don't.
i've never been modivated. Rarily am i inspired. Never do i want something.
Sometimes it's all like some sort of sick joke that i never caught onto, and just kept pretending i understood so the big kids would think i fit in.
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(no subject) [Jul. 10th, 2007|04:05 pm]
pyschogecko
i am so ridiculous.

and stupid.
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(no subject) [Jul. 8th, 2007|02:54 pm]
pyschogecko
i feel worse every time we're forced into exhibiting.



i really, really hate myself right now.
and i'd been doing so well.

what is worth what.
don't answer.







totally going to regret typing this later.
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(no subject) [Jun. 20th, 2007|10:30 pm]
pyschogecko
it's kind of funny.

if you tell someone you are simply normal the initial reaction seems to be a jerk of the neck and immediate denial of the statement just voiced. it's not like it was a question. why is this?

that's me.
hello, i am absolutely and completely normal.

what now? neck spasm?

would this be learnt reaction, caused by familial adults droning on about how you are such a special, and unique little child? i'm told that my opinion is incorrect because when they were young their mommy told them they were a princess?

i am an unexeptional individual. i am not a great artist. i am not a great writer. i am not a great musician. i am not interesting. i am not good with conversation. i am mediocre. i am mediocre in life and through out it. i excel at nothing in particular, and am terrible at nothing in particular.

i would think that would make me normal. the median line between 'good' and 'bad' to be cliche.
again.

whatever. i just don't get it.
yes! i am normal. god forbid. someone admitted to their own pattern.

whooooooo.
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(no subject) [Dec. 22nd, 2006|05:28 pm]
pyschogecko
i am something else
and if i'm not yet
then i will be.
soon enough.

maybe.
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(no subject) [Dec. 1st, 2006|06:07 pm]
pyschogecko
Bones and muscles
Sinews and tendons
          set into motion with an expectation of speed
    seeking permanence in an environment of change unchanging
the anarchy of chance dictating our lives in a ruse of destiny
          separating the montage of our minds in and effort to accept a notion of irrational inevitability assigned by the size of others' shadows
          all while looking for something excitingly shallow
     faces turn from humanity's inhumanity towards humanity
       decaying hands creak as they move to shield nearby eyes no longer permitted youth's innocence
      a viable dissection of culture is reported to reveal only a rotting core, but tabloids rave it was the celebrity's baby reincarnated for economic purposes.
The good of mankind gives way under a light pressure and sinks into the ocean with a trail of slaughtered sea life in its wake
       and instead of a great revolution the only able bodied, able minded are lined up for shots ready to be recorded as more myth than history, having more vitality than validity, but the thing itself hardly matters, just the story behind it.
There are days when adventure never existed, then others where even the air is, and always was, laden and themed with it. Psychological voyages entrap the entrails in twisting views of intensely infatuating, though perhaps scandalous. Misery selects malignant to contend with as distractions of such rebellious natures that it all seems indescribably satirical when reviewed.
    Perceived reality is dimpled at the point of surreal resolution, wrenching our synapses' free of the knotted rational which remains no such thing. Rest your weary form on the arms of those dear. One cannot go in others' limbs, so we'll have to make due.
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