idealistic girl, where did your heart go? did the world eat it off a styrofoam plate? the fork completes the landfill. there is nothing to wake or sleep for, idealistic child.

what color is color?
i see you have no mind to mind.

talking about my feelings on my blog makes me feel thirteen (especially when i talk about how my feelings make me feel), so i will simply say that i am troubled. and. would. appreciate being somehow thrust into. a. coma.

but sleeping isn't what it used to be either, as i've been having vivid nightmares.

last night i was attacked by ferocious crocodiles.

the sun isn't as warm as it was a month ago, and a light layer of gloom has settled over the campus. i like to think of it as a collection of sad clouds wearing party hats. perhaps they drink and drink and drunkenly toast. that's rain rain sky moon shine.

i've been majorly slacking on my bison duties... here's hoping that i can write an op-ed article by curfew tomorrow that's actually worth reading.

instead of going to classes tomorrow, i wish i could just stay in bed and put a warm typewriter on my stomach. i would just type and type, even if i wrote nothing at all. there's something about that clicking.

that click ing click ing, the occasional beep, the wet ink.

i tried to draw today and i couldn't. why not just say it? my posts are loose braids.

i could sell this stuff for money mon ey mone y.

(sometimes it's best to go with the crowd and google what you need.)

karyn needs constant care.
karyn needs to have a piece of my mind.
karyn needs to have affection to feel secure and wanted.
karyn needs help.
karyn needs to be punished.
karyn needs to pay off a credit card debt.
karyn needs help printing labels.
karyn needs to take her vague attractiveness and head on over to germany to get down with the old rich guy.
karyn needs to sit and stew for a while.
karyn needs a new after pic.

(and what you want.)

karyn wants us to be able to use this as a member to “give them hell”.
karyn wants to go somewhere (vacation or just a get-away).
karyn wants to share her love of color and texture and all of yarn's infinite possibilities.
karyn wants a no-foam latte!
karyn wants to live with both of us but thats just not going to happen.
karyn wants to plan the next two years of her life.
karyn wants to bring back her medal and show the kids at the schools.
karyn wants scrapping items.
karyn wants to know if rob regrets picking erin and missing out on the half a million dollars he’d have gotten with paige.
karyn wants to have a eurodance party with you and unfortanately you are not here to partake.

i want to understand why i like judas so much.
i want to say how i feel all the time.
i want to leave harding.
i want to go back to europe.
i want to have time to read.
i want to be a better writer.
i want to be free.

i don't want to write my paper.
i don't want to write my paper.
i don't want to write my paper.

(that's all.)

i really don't enjoy having hate in my heart.

i hate one of my teachers - not just casually, like i "hated" all of my teachers in high school, but with frightening passion.

we had a quiz today for which i thought i was extremely prepared, and when i was the last student in the room still taking the quiz long after the bell had rung, i asked my teacher about the four or five questions that i still had no idea how to answer. i feel like she treated me very insensitively with her responses, telling me that i didn't know as much as i should know at this point in the semester. her voice had an extremely unwelcome maternal and superior tone, and she laughed about how i hadn't completely diagrammed every sentence on the quiz before i came to class. she laughed.

instead of having us study the grammar of typical and practical english, she's insisting that we study biblical psalms, though she is constantly having to add "there is a word missing here that people would normally say because it is a psalm, so just ignore that." part of our studies include painfully singing versions of the psalms we're studying that have been set to music. last time she had us sing every single verse, despite that there were about six or seven. it eats up our time and we never actually address material. i guess that she feels righteous because she believes that she's found some clever way to incorporate christianity into grammar. perhaps she goes home at night congratulating herself on a job well done, when in reality, if we learn anything at all, it is because we've taught ourselves by doing the exercises in the book. i don't want any part of my tuition to go toward her paycheck. i hate her.

it's rare that there would be an english class that makes me physically angry, because i have such an affection for the subject. the entire situation makes me feel like i'm failing as a student, and i'm uncomfortable with a teacher making me feel that way.

it's an awkward situation because i feel like i should complain to the english department about her absent teaching skills, but i'm good friends with her husband. also, i absolutely cannot stand the idea of her reacting to my complaint by telling people that i am simply a bad student. i don't know what to do.

posting this makes me feel like i am a bitter and spiteful child, but i'm not sure how else to deal with this right now except through writing.

i feel better.

well, i'm here to take my feelings back (and i hope that you will be with me).

today was pretty much an amazing day, despite that it was wednesday - wednesday's never been a friend of mine. i read most of a french reading without help, which is a big deal for me. i'm not generally confident enough to even try tackling a short story completely in french without ellen's help.

here's to finally coming away with something.

we went to the olive garden tonight to celebrate robin's birthday responsibly. yes. i had not been there since ellen and josh's rehearsal lunch two summers ago. everything down to the end-of-the-meal mints took me back to that experience.

i'm am prendre-ing le conaissance avec julian. i guess that at first people look at him and think, "cool, he's french," but i am way past that. i think he's tons of fun, and i would want to hang out with him even if he were just another loser from texas. there, i said it: texas.

i have committed myself to a weekly bible study. that's where i'm going now. wish me luck with God.

The Lost Fly Tells the Idealistic Girl Not to Dream

A lost fly landed
on my knuckle yesterday.
Statue-still, I stopped

to cradle her, and
asked, "what are you dreaming of?"
She turned toward silent

clouds, escaping through
my open window. What would
you come away with,

Idealistic Girl?
I left my typewriter and
went to wash my hands.

(i was inexplicably upset and angry. things are better.)

i read this on the xanga of a 17-year-old boy whom i once met:

"enjoy your thoughts enjoy my thoughts ignore the sarcasm. never go a day without discovering or creating somthing new."

never never never go a day without discovering or creating something new.

right on.

look at us,
curled up like
these quotation marks:
"we are the most ourselves
when
we laugh into
each other's necks,"
like lost children
immoderately loved loved
loved,
and in love strangely found.

i am nineteen years old, and i go to a college that advertises itself as christian. it probably is full of christians, and i'm worried that has made me more cynical. one of my professors this semester asserted that cynicism is an unattractive trait, and i am inclined to agree.

but still, i have thoughts.

i get frustrated that i believe that God exists. in some ways, i think that life would be easier if i could deny God and actually ever mean it. i could have sex right now if there were no God. i could drink as much as i wanted and be as ugly as i felt like being. a lot of my confusion would go away. it would be alright for me to believe that it's ok for people to be homosexual. i could worship whatever else i wanted and not have to apologize before i went to bed.

when i came to harding, i thought the rules were funny. they made me laugh. they didn't make me angry.

now they make me angry, really intensely angry when i think about them for any amount of time. it's so ridiculous that i cannot even visit a male friend's house if he lives off-campus, or a dorm if he lives on-campus. for the two-hour period every few weeks that we are actually allowed to visit each other's rooms, we're chaperoned.

i am nineteen years old. matt is twenty-three, i think. robin's about to be twenty-one.

i hate it here. i hate feeling like i'm a child and i shouldn't be trusted. harding doesn't trust its students. i don't know why wanting to be in a christian college means that we're not trustworthy. i guess that's what makes harding ideal for parents.

any physical relationship a person could have here must be confined to a car. that is so unhealthy. i think that it's making me crazy.

i hate going to chapel. i hate waking up late on sunday morning and going to the cafeteria and being stared at because it's obvious from my clothes that i didn't come directly from church.

i have a curfew. i don't even have a curfew like this when i'm home on a break.

i want to tell as many freshmen as possible to leave while they still have any kind of choice.

i think that my least favorite part of all of this is that i'm afraid my parents think that this is how i should be experiencing college.

i dream about so much it is absurd.

i feel productive this week. i'm on top of things. i'm completing projects.

my good classes are getting better and my bad classes are getting worse... the ever-widening gap of my schedule. i cannot wait until the end of the semester when i get to fill out teacher evaluations. brutal honesty is true love, my friends.

my phone situation is more or less fine, but my computer is still dead dead dead or falling down drunk dead. it's not a big problem, though, since i have come to rely on harding's computer labs. hello tech fee!

robin has been gone for the past two weekends. his absense has resulted in my finally learning how to play battleship, and in the mass production of sad clouds. they've gotten together for a sad cloud party now, and the happy sun is not invited.

i feel as if i have not written anything in a long time. compositions for class, yes, and bison articles, but nothing else. write what you know. i know a lot about john roberts now. i know a lot about dover, pennsylvania, now.

i know chicken soup, caesar dressing, and jane austin, but i still don't know a lot about God.

when i am tired, i feel worthless.

keep your eyes, ears, and hands open.

why am i always on a plane or a fast train
oh what a world my parents gave me
always traveling but not in love
(oh but i am in love!)