Third Eye Over the Horizon

Thu, 01 Jun 2006 15:23:23 GMT

Tomorrow, June 2nd, I'm back in Florida. There can then be much celebrating and nashing of teeth.

Fri, 26 May 2006 16:43:40 GMT

What am I really doing here? I don't think this is it at all. And if it is, I can't tell at this moment. I haven't had any good luck here so far; in fact, I've had nhing but bad luck. Maybe I'm not meant to be a professional artist. I definately know that I wasn't meant to be loved. Meghan's going to be in Arizona all summer, maybe even until the next year. Maybe I'd like it in Arizona, or Memphis, or wherever else we might possibly end up. I'd miss my folks, but Kamm'll be in Germany and I don't know who else would be three and a half hours away for me to miss. My house is no longer my house. I don't know if I have a home right now.

I could get a job in Arizona, and paint on the side. Figure things out for a while. See something different. Have some time to myself... but what if it's just like this again? What if everywhere I go there will be a Bud and a SCAD and a Laura and maybe even a Paul, and a large piece of paper that someone's gonna make me drivle on? Cigarettes to be smoked, booze to be drunk, men to be fucked, hearts to be pissed on, beaches to fall in love with...

I would give anything to go back. I would give anything to have not fucked this all up.

Mon, 15 May 2006 15:36:21 GMT

You used to play my thigh like a piano
Lift me up real high below you
And you would lick the salt from my heart
But I tell you, these cuts are longer than they are deep

And I still take down the moon
Put it in my canoe
And lick it like your lips

In my dead skin I'm holding lanterns
They fill with my blood and sand
You find peace in my virgin parameters
You like the lighting with this pillow over my head

And I still take down the moon
Put it in my canoe
And lick it like your lips

And now I can't kiss my father on the mouth
And I can't take this man with eyes like the south
I can't rip myself open any wider
I can't keep from killing your image for much longer

So I'll still take down the moon
Put it in my canoe
And lick it like your lips

There is a Hole

Thu, 06 Apr 2006 12:25:02 GMT

Hung over, uprepared, uncreative, uncertain, and you can still cut our hands on my heart. The minute I give it away, it seems, it suddenly becomes a dangerous weapon. I've always used it though. I wielded it. My sword, my chalic my wand and my pentacle and my justice for what people have done. Now all I can blame is myself. I'd rather blame myself than anyone else. Perhaps my naivite has finally defeated me, but I can't believe that this was a mistake. I can't call you and -interval man. You aren't him. He would have never made the effort, but sometimes I wish I could slice your face open with the edge of my pain and pretend you are just like everyone else. Everyone else is feeling me slip. I feel myself turning into an ugly person. I'm someone I never wanted to be. It's disgusting really. Goddamn I'm hungover. Goddamn I'm hurt. Goddamn I want to go back back back to before, when you were just the kid late to class and not my type. When I was happy with my paintings and no one else could make me so happy. I don't think he'll ever own any of them; they would rebel. They would never stay ont he wall. They would become dirty and warped and the corners would curl because you took me. Because even they couldn't hold my heart without getting knicked after you. After you, I am everyone else. everyone else.

Old Poem I found

Wed, 15 Feb 2006 15:59:02 GMT

Sometimes I find old poems tha I have written and actually kind like after a few years. Certain parts, at least.

His head was on fire
Licking flames the stem in me
And my eyes were reeking
Battling the perfume that filled them supplely

He was crystalline
And cobwebs stroked his blue pallor
But I drew myself back
Prisms might not hold every colour

Sinking into his image
I was discovered to by his gaze
That he was sturdy
But that his heart constantly prays

You pound on my head
Your boots heavy and weighting my skull
And were I as a Lady
I'd rip out the statue that you built me to pull

Passion at first sight
The eyes have imaginations like galaxies
I was only on fire
But this nightangel's torch will take leave to relax me

Tue, 22 Nov 2005 05:35:53 GMT

Wednesday, I'm home, bitches. You all owe me birthday dinner. Yessssssssssss.

Sun, 06 Nov 2005 00:18:49 GMT

Very Very sick. Ew.

Tue, 11 Oct 2005 21:59:22 GMT

" every drop of ink on this sheet is a drop of hate staining my soul "

Too funny

Tue, 04 Oct 2005 01:25:00 GMT

Things are going more smoothly now. I've made some neat friends, though I'm sure I've offended them all into hating me. I like my classes a bit more now, thought the work is still overwhelming. and I'm officially coming home on the 28th through the 30th, so batboy people: you besta be good. That's all I gotta say.

The weekend before that my roomate's gonna be out of town, so if any of you want to come visit, let me know and I'll get you a thingame and you can come on down (well, up).

Apparently I have a slight southern accent. Who knew.

Fri, 16 Sep 2005 01:14:11 GMT

I kinda want to come home. This is not my home. Why am I not happy here? I was supposed to be happy here.

Maybe I was happy there, but just didn't know it.

Wed, 24 Aug 2005 17:30:40 GMT

Original Sinsuality
Little Amsterdam
Icicle
Goodbye Pisces
China
Spark
Siren

And Dream Of Sheep (Kate Bush cover)
Moonshadow (Cat Stevens cover)

Mother
Sugar
Jamaica Inn
Strange
The Beekeeper

1st Encore

Bells For Her
Putting The Damage On

2nd Encore

Apollo's Frock
Hey Jupiter

Why wasn't I at this show!? Best setlist ever!

Song-things

Sat, 20 Aug 2005 23:54:11 GMT

Six songs that you are currently digging... no matter the genre, whether they have words or even if they're any good but they must be songs you're really enjoying right now. Post these instructions, the artist and the song in your LiveJournal along with your six songs. Then tag six other people to see what they're listening to.

1) Sleater-Kinney - "Buy Her Candy"
2) Yann Tiersen and Shannon Wright - "Pale White"
3) Regina Spektor - "Oedipus"
4) The New Pornographers - "Fire in the Streets"
5) Rilo Kiley - "The Good that Won't Come Out"
6) Tori Amos - "Take to the Sky"

Uh... I tag you all! Hahahahaha

Yeah, me too.

Mon, 27 Jun 2005 00:11:10 GMT

Your name:
Where did we meet?:
Take a stab at my middle name?:
How long have you known me?:
Do I smoke?:
Do I believe in God?:
What was your first impression of me upon meeting?:
Color of my eyes?:
Do I have any siblings?:
What's one of my favorite things to do?:
Do you remember one of the first things I said to you?:
What's my favorite type of music?:
What is the best feature about me?:
Am I shy or outgoing?:
Am I a rebel or do I follow the rules?:
Any special talents?:
Would you consider me a friend?:
If there was one good nickname for me, what would it be?:
What's your favorite memory of me?:
AND
If you and I were stranded on a deserted island, what would I bring?

50 Question Questionaire

Wed, 18 May 2005 15:56:37 GMT

1. What is your name?
Elaine. My first name is Alma. But I go by Elaine, because few can argue that it is definately more attractive than Alma. Online I'm usually Elsma, which is a weird little pseudonym I devised about four years ago.

2. What color underwear are you wearing now?
Light Purply lilac-y color. You can see then through the large hole in my ass.

3. What are you listening to right now?
A lawn mower outside?

4. What are the last 2 digits of your phone number?
49

5. What was the last thing you ate?
A piece of gum. Cinamon. Mmm.

6. If you were a crayon what color would you be?
Uh... fire-engine red? Maybe? Then I just think of that part from My First Mister and go "ewww." So we'll leave this as an "I don't know," just to be safe.

7. How is the weather right now?
Unbelievably HOT.

8. Who was the last person you talked to on the phone?
Chelsea, I think.

9. The first thing you notice about the opposite/same(if your gay) sex?
I guess that, like anyone, I notice physical appearances. If they are attractive to me or not. But I always factor in movement into that attractiveness -- I guess from thirteen years of dancing. But not so much grace, as just their mannerisms. I try to get a bit more of their personality from that, and from how they talk, usually. So, those three: phsyical, manneral, and vocal qualities.

10. Favorite Food?
God. I don't know. Garlic, if you would count that as a food (I eat it as a food, so why not?)

11. Favorite Drink?
I guess water. I always feel best after drinking water. Coffee's at a close second out fo necessity more than fondness.

12. Favorite Alcoholic Drink?
I'm weird -- I actually like beer. But I guess other than that I do like rum and coke.

13. Favorite place to shop?
Dlea Markets

14. Hair color:
Bright Red. Rather blotchily dyed. Next I'm thinking red, blonde and brown. Oh yeah.

15. Eye Color:
Green usually. They get a bit greyish-hazel at times.

16. Do you wear contacts?
No. My vision's good. Although I do look good in glasses

17. Top or Bottom?
-blush- Depends. If I'm a little bit bored I might take the top to get it over with. If I'm not in a hurry, the bottom. I'm not terribly creative, so I won't try and make it sound like I'm constantly in more positions than that.

18. favorite month?
I like May and December. My own reasons why.

19. Favorite Fast Food?
When I ate fast food, there was a place called Mac's that I'd always go to.

20. Last Movie you Watched?
A movie called "Proof". Nothing like the play. I didn't watch all of it, though.

21. Favorite Day of the Year?
Uh.... January 46th.

22. Are you too shy to ask someone out?
Depends on the person. If they're really shy, I might take the opposing position. Vise versa, though.

23. Summer or Winter?
Both?

24. Hugs or Kisses?
Hmmmm, sometimes hugs are very awkward and not terribly satisfying. But then sometimes kisses can be a bit tiresome. I'll have to go with a slap on the ass.

25. Chocolate or Vanilla?
Vanilla. Makes me less thirsty afterwards... and too much chocolate is just... too much sometimes.

26. Do you want your friends to respond back?
What's there to respond to, exactly?

27. Who is most likely to respond?
The person who figures out what there is to respond to?

28. Who is least likely to respond?
The person as ignorant to the response-worthiness of this entry as I?

29. What books are you reading?
Anais Nin's Children of the Albatross, which I'm taking forever to read. And then I'm starting Lolita, which is aparently the story of my life (which worries me deeply).

30. favorite TV Show?
I don't really have a favorite. Ones that I watch the most are the X-Files reruns and... oh snap! I used to loooove the Tribe.

31. What's on your mouse pad?
Purple

32. Favorite board game?
Chess, because I'm reeeally funny when I lose.

33. What did you do last night?
Worked on a piece some, mostly just deciding what color to make the background, trying out different things. And I was at the dance studio until ninish.

34. Favorite Author?
I do like Neil Gaiman, as pulp-fantasy as he may be. I have to say I really relate toa lot fo the things Anais Nin writes about. And then I do love ee cummings, William Blake and Emily Dickenson. Arundhati Roy's a fucking genius.

35. Who inspires you?
I'm never inspired as much as enraged. That's what gets me going, makes me do things differently and work harder. Sometimes I'm just genuinely in awe of people, usually artists and performers, and am thus inspired.

36. Butter, Plain or Salted popcorn?
Plain, actually.

37. Dogs or cats?
If I had to pick, it'd be cat. Less maintanence. I'm just not an animal person, though.

38. Favorite Flower?
Hmm... Whisteria is always really funky and uplifting to me.

39. What do you say when you wake up in the A.M.?
Whyyyy am I giving birth to an antelope and having a foursome with one person I've actually slept with, one person I would never sleep with and one person that doesn't actually exist?

40. Do you still talk to your best friends from middle school?
Not that much. Sometimes, though.

41. What's on your desk?
Um... a telephone, iron pills, a candybar rapper, a hair clip, scissors, all computor-related mail such-and-suchs. Markers, two floppy disks, a calender and an assortment of crap left over from the garage sale.

42. Rock Concert or symphony?
Depends on what's playing. Usually I'd say rock concert, but I do like asome classical music.

43. Play or Opera?
Play. No opera, please.

44. Have you ever fired a gun?
No. I don't like guns, but I feel like at one point in my life I shoudl fire one, just so I can look at everything from that point of view as well as from my own.

45. Do you like to travel by plane?
Yes, unless it's for more than four hours.

46. Right-handed or Left-handed?
Right

47. Smooth or Chunky Peanut Butter?
Smooth. Easier to spread.

48. How many pillows do you sleep with?
ONe.

49. City and State you were born?
Gainesville, Florida

50. Ever hitchhiked?
Nope.

Since I'll be a Georgian this Fall

Fri, 13 May 2005 13:34:53 GMT

You Know You're From Georgia When...

Sweet tea is THE drink. No questions.

When a waitress asks what you want to drink and you say Coke, she asks "What kind?"

"Ya'll" is a word.

Atlanta is known as "The City."

You know the difference between a hillbilly, a redneck, and a Southerner.

The one way to be killed in .5 seconds is to talk about somebody's mama or talk bad to somebody's mama.

Krispy Kreme dounuts are the only kind of dounuts you eat.

Fried chicken is a major part of your diet.

When the Goverment started telling people to stock up on duck tape, you were waaaaaaaaaay ahead of them.

You walk into someone's house and people are sitting around smoking what they call "the garden"

On one side of the road there's Wal-Mart and on the other is a cotton field

You greet people with"Howdy, Whachu doin?"

You know what a 'dawg' is.

You know people who consider a six pack and a bug zapper quality entertainment.

The directions to your house include "turn off the paved road."

Your dog and your wallet are both on chains.

You still call the refrigerator the "icebox".

You call it a cold Christmas if you don't break out in a sweat in your new sweater.

Your whole town completely shuts down for 1 inch of snow or just the threat of snow

You know at least three streets named "Peachtree"

You don't know anyone who drinks Pepsi.

The last thing you want to do is give another driver the finger... unless your car is armored, your trigger finger is itchy and your AK-47 has a full clip.

It is not a shopping cart, it is a buggy.

People actually grow, eat and like okra!

You actually get these jokes and pass them on to other friends from Georgia.

Get Your Own "You Know You're From" Meme Here

More cool things for your blog at
Blogthings

Exciting. I can't wait.

Fri, 06 May 2005 00:35:54 GMT

So fu-fu-fucking sick of the woooooooorld. I want to kill everything right now. Stupid people. Stupid cops and stupid wires and stupid tests and stupid fiberglass. ANHFDSINASA

woot

Tue, 19 Apr 2005 01:38:26 GMT

Alma Elaine Shoaf's Aliases

Your movie star name: Apple Henry

Your fashion designer name is Alma Nice

Your socialite name is Shoafer Zimbabwe!

Your fly girl / guy name is A Sho

Your detective name is Birdy Eastside

Your barfly name is Apple Vodka

Your soap opera name is Elaine Seventh

Your rock star name is Toffee My Respectability

Your star wars name is Almrud Sholuc

Your punk rock band name is The Blah Keyboardduster

The Amazing Meganame Generator

Sun, 03 Apr 2005 06:47:17 GMT

As the semester comes to a close, I have discovered something very important. No matter how much good you think you've done, none of it matters in the face of someting bad, or stupid, or anything but goodagain.

I wasn't hugged for a whole minute. I wasn't cried with. His mother gave me the most disgusted look I've ever recieved. And I don't know what to do. Now I don't know how to feel.

I don't think I'll miss it.

Rip Van Winkle

Wed, 16 Mar 2005 11:32:18 GMT

So, I guess I've been okay. I still don't know for sure if I'm going to Savannah. We can't sell our goddamn mother fucking piece of shit house. I still can't clean it, either. I wish my parents had made me move early in life, before I felt older than eighty and less like doing something with my life and more like sleeping until I die, so that I'd know how to move. I'm bad at leaving things behind.

I don't feel terribly appreciated. I guess I should. I feel like there is something integrally wrong with me; a reason why it keeps happening. Then I think that I should decide it right now: I should be alone for the rest of my life. But that's so ridiculous. I'm eighteen, and I'm deciding my fucking life? And it's useless, because I'm also thinking that I will never paint again, and that most certainly will not be the case. I'm a cadmium addict (and I'm too lazy to fix). I should just be like the rest of the world. Not care. I should be like they were, they are, I suppose. They're only a little bit dead, and only to me.

It wouldn't make sense if I didn't get into SoY. But I suppose to the cosmos it does.

Mon, 28 Feb 2005 23:09:22 GMT

1. Reply with your name and I will write something about you.

2. I will then tell what song reminds me of you.

3. Next, I will tell you what FOOD you remind me of.

4. Last, i will try to name a single word that best describes you.

5. Post this in your journal

heh

Errrrr

Tue, 22 Feb 2005 22:32:52 GMT

So, I knew I'd be disappointed by it, but the new Tori album is just way too... tepid. I'm too critical. I guess it isn't that bad. Some of it is pretty good. some of it is... eh.

Fri, 11 Feb 2005 11:37:45 GMT

I have kissed someone...

on the cheek.
on the lips.
on their hands or fingers.
in my room.
in their room.
of the same sex.
of the opposite sex.
younger than me.
older than me.
with jet black hair.
with curly hair.
with blonde hair, blue eyes.
with flaming red hair. ... can't remember, I think it might have been more pink....
with straight hair.
smaller/shorter than me.
bigger/taller than me.
with a nipple ring.
who was drunk.
who was high.
who I had just met.
who is homosexual.
who I didn't really want to kiss.
on a holiday.
who was going out with someone else.
who was going out with someone close to me.
who was my good friend's brother or sister. FINALLY
who had been/is in jail.

in a graveyard.
at a show/concert.
at the beach.
in a pool, jacuzzi, or some type of water.

who was legally too young/old for me to have sex with.
with dyed hair.
with a shaved head.
who was/is my good friend.
who was/is in a band.
who has tattoos.
who is of a completely different race than me.
in another continent besides where I was born.
with an accent.
with an std.
on a boat.
in a car/taxi/bus.
on a plane.
at the circus/carnival.
with a missing body part.
in the movies.

eskimo style

yeah, kinda dumb, but oh well

God

Mon, 31 Jan 2005 02:49:44 GMT

Well, I usex to do this on OD, so I guess I will here, now, as well.

You’re roots leave light in the ink of my eye
As I try to finish sewing you into the heels of my hands
And to you I’m just the simplicity of the number 73
I can see where my lack of curve dries out the slash and the C

So I try to rearrange my metallic run-on sentences
Inside the pulp-womb of your mostly misspelled bed
Your skin is like a translucent recollection
Of all the tongues I’ve tested on his slight erection

And that light drives out most of your telling lines
Your form’s half-finished and I haven’t a heart out of hell
To render my fingertips in the cradle of your dancing
And to make myself a necklace for the shadow-neck you are casting

But in the soft folds of your wasp-waist joke
I feel that inside you love me venomously hard
Because my disk seem to all fall strait out of line
And my roots try to rearrange to the pattern you divine

Me

Windy City

Sun, 23 Jan 2005 23:41:00 GMT

So, still in Chicago. Paying seven buck for fifteen minutes on this dinosaur. SAIC was good. The workshop was good. the snow is.... good?

I've been reading Anais Nin's "Seduction of the Minotaur," and it's depressing. I relate so much that it depresses me. No matter how much I feel I have accomplished, I need some sort of reinforcement. Some people just have to have someone to contradict their own self-destruction. They need the ying. I need a ying.

But, instead, I've only found a guy who will "fill" my "yang" every few months and then disapear until his "ying" gets lonely again. And everything else I push away. Maybe I don't need it. Maybe it is only by process of elimination that I think I need it; I have friends, I have interests, I have a "talent," I have a family... why am I unhappy? Perhaps because I'm not "in love?" But at every chance I look the other way. So really, I don't know. I just don't know.

I need some balls. For myself and... well... myself.

Up is too High, Down is too Low

Wed, 22 Dec 2004 20:06:02 GMT

So, I've been feeling reasonably shitty lately. A bit not myself. I don't like that. It isn't as if I didn't know that I didn't like it before, but I guess when you don't really like yourself it's hard to keep from straying. I will make an effort to be myself, be in control, and maybe even like it. Hm...

So, Brian's home for the holidays, I'm bloated beyond all sensible means, my throat hurts, and I will officially never become a mask maker. Frown. But, I'm glad I ahve friends. Even if they don't always like me, they are there. Sort of.