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Name: Missy
State: Arkansas
Interests: seek God. act, be involved in any way with theatre,act silly,going to garage sales, outdoor festivals, moonlit walks, and places with great milkshakes, listening to good bands, bad bands, and classical piano, make people laugh,write, look at clouds,play in the rain, read poetry, make music, play music, dance,make things with ribbons and lace and pictures of everything,dream, jump off of somewhat high things in to water, and sing atrociously.
Expertise: breathing
Message: message me
AIM:  onefuriousgeorge
Member Since:
12/15/2004
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| As I've said countless times before...
I hate guns and the power they give people and the way some people don't understand that guns don't serve a positive purpose.
The end. | | |
| So many things happen around you if you just take the time to stop listening to yourself and watch the rest of campus and listen to what's going on. I feel like maybe some certain freshmen (and upperclassmen, for that matter) could stand to look past their own cliques for a few minutes to see what's going on in a broader sense...might make things flow a little smoother around here.Maybe your group means the world to you but you don't live in a vaccuum; you could stand to consider the way your actions affect the rest of the people around.
Spoon was fantastic last night, can't say I rocked out in the Brick Pit with everyone else, but in all honesty the view was perfect from right where I was. Warm late night concerts and feeling home for a little while are beautiful things.
School just keeps flying...this was the longest week of my life though. I'm still constantly amazed at the fluidity of life here.I think I expect more things to be as solid as I used to feel, but they just move and change and float away. It's not a bad thing to see friendships, old ideas, or conflicts change or resolve but it's the strangest feeling to be reminded that nothing is permanent. I'm at a point though, where confrontation isn't such a bad thing anymore when people are walking all over me or the people I love; where school matters but I can only expect myself to work as hard as I can and not berate myself if I don't always have immaculate grades; where I've found the people I really love and that I'm willing to work to keep around. Next year will probably kill me, when the majority of my homebase of friends goes abroad. Six more weeks of school and fantastic weather...one Hamlet paper, four tests, one religion paper, and four finals keeps me from summer.
We'll see. | | |
| I'm sorry, did I miss the memo on growing up?
Why is everyone getting married as of late? This is getting ridiculous. I mean, go team, for all of the people who are...it's just a little overwhelming since I'm not even remotely ready to contemplate marriage...just seems to be an everpresent topic these days.
...
"She broke down the other day you know,
Well some things in life may change
And some things they stay the same
Like time...there's always time,on my mind
Pass me by, I'll be fine
Just give me time"
...
Side note...the Hendrix theatre department is kind of ridiculous...and Danny and Ann probably hate me now. Awesome.
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| All I know is...
I heard a new band tonight and got to spend some time before and after their set with them- Straight Dope Cherry, check them out. Really, really chill guys, fun music, good times.
Russia is really cool.
So is Guitar Hero.
And snow. | | |
| Happy holidays, loves!
Everything is going well. The consumerism of the Christmas season hasn't left me too jaded, surrounded as I am by people I love. Lately, the most interesting things to enter into my ears has been "The Crane Wife"(Decemberists), "9"(Damien Rice), and "Light Grenades"(Incubus); for my eyes, "Blood Diamond" and "The Producers" (much belated, I realize. I finally watched it tonight with Michael and Kathleen and was greatly amused); and for my mind, "Everything is Illuminated", "Unbearable Lightness of Being", and short stories by Kafka. It's somewhat of an overload in Russian influenced literature,but I really like it and am wondering if there are any classes that I can take dealing wth Russian lit next year.
Otherwise, I'm starting to write seriously again for the first time in a very long time.It's high time I take it seriously, or at least passionately. Something that Kafka made me realize is that the most ordinary and simple scenes, described passionately, and with truth, are made beautiful with little effort. It just takes a keen eye for observation and a love, somewhere, for what you're describing, even if it is random children at play or the view of passers-by from your parents front yard on a late spring evening. I love to write, more than anything else, except maybe meeting new people and finding out what they love, what makes them unique, what makes them tick.There's so much that I want to do differently, and so many people that I feel that if I just spend a little bit more time with, that can show me so much of the world and what it means to them. I know what it means to me, but I feel like every time you talk to someone you can learn something new. I want that kind of intensity and fierceness of living (taken out of context I realize this makes no sense...). I hate getting shy or embarrassed or unable to reach out to people to give them someone to share those passions with...my friends always mention how people dump their problems on me. What I'm really trying to reach, through listening to their problems and drama and struggles, is trust, trust enough so that they can reveal what makes them absolutely on fire. It doesn't matter if it's science or sports or music or art or religion, I just want to be able to tap that intensity. I firmly believe that everyone has an outlet for their creative stirrings, and seeing someone's face light up with the joy of whatever makes them "go" is one of the most fascinating things I've ever experienced. If I can understand that, it helps me understand the world a little better. That's what makes me want to write- I want to capture that moment of bliss and energy and transfer it on to a empty, responsive, page. To illuminate the heartbeat of a stranger with words.
On a completely unrelated note, my dad bought me a robot-monkey face for Christmas. I don't really know how to respond to that.
Rambling, as usual. Hopefully it's not too emo for you, Ian. | | |
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