World of Lisasmith

Dreams of the Cherub

2010-05-02T17:12:00.001-04:00

"Don't you cross my soil."

Letters From The War: December 17, 3009

2010-01-04T10:52:00.005-05:00

My Darling,

I am writing to you with great news! While the spring and summer months showed us no promise of hope or progress, the late fall has been kind and we have finally made an ally! The Scientist has come into the fold and has filled us with an optimism that my men and I have not felt in months. With his help, a slow rebuilding of key infrastructure has begun.

The Scientist and his men bring a level of technology that we have not yet seen before. I marvel at his cleverness and courage. His weapons, tools, and machinery come from the other String.

Best of all, we finally have met others who share in the cause of the destruction of a common enemy. One can not believe the despair that a man can feel when he thinks that he is alone in the world.

I love you and will write again soon.

Love Always,
Abbott

A Cherub's Question

2009-09-01T11:28:00.002-04:00

"Where's my wine?"

Moon

2009-04-17T12:13:00.005-04:00

Moon doesn't seem to know it is daytime. I saw him out and about today. I wondered why he was there and I said to him: "Moon, why are you out now? Are you following me again?" Moon said nothing, but stayed in a smile. I watched him till about noon, when he just seemed to fade away.

Book Holding

2009-04-16T18:59:00.001-04:00

While standing, she would often hold her book in one hand and rock back and forth on her shoes; heel to toe. I imagine it was out of exhaustion or exasperation that she would push the hair on the top of her head back with the palm of her hand. (Each hair would spring back into place in an act of defiance.) Was anyone listening? I have no idea. But there seemed as though there were times when someone actually understood what she was saying. At these moments, her eyes would grow wide, the pitch of her voice would go higher and she would say: "Yes! Yes! Exactly." And I would laugh inside.

Better

2009-04-06T12:52:00.002-04:00

I never thought my heart would be OK again — physically or emotionally. But time healed both. I still miss you so much and think about you everyday, but today everything is better.

The Year of Anniversaries

2009-03-19T10:51:00.006-04:00

Anniversaries: directions to the past,
pointers to pain and grief, pleasure and joy.
The year of Anniversaries is black and white
marked out by square boxes,
flagged with ordinal numbers.
They serve as a reminder of my mind's identity;
that from which I came... what I've done;
a mnemonic of the wreckage I've left behind.

Letters From The War: March 8th, 3009

2009-03-13T11:44:00.006-04:00

March 8th, 3009

My Darling,

I am sorry I have not written. The front has been an abysmal onslaught of unimaginable horrors. I have been moving about every few months in an effort to keep our position secure, and I am unsure when I will be able to send this letter to you.

In December, I sent my number one out into the field to rally our troops, collect intelligence and speak on my behalf. He had been gone without word for several months and has just returned to me now, the 8th of March. I welcomed the sight of him and thanked God he was still alive. He does not look well. I believe the burden of my requests, coupled with the weight of his own weary heart has sabotaged his health. Sadly, he has no news. Everything remains as it was since this terrible war began. I have no idea when I will be coming home and I often wonder if I will ever get out of this place. Yet amidst this deluge of chaos, sadness, and horror, my spirit remains hopeful. I do not know if this is courage or insanity.

I love you, miss you and think of you every day.

Love always,
Abbott

Computation

2009-03-06T19:16:00.002-05:00

I touched the bottom and you were there;
conversely, I saw you at the apex.
Added or subtracted, I am really quite the same;
in any case it is pointless to compute you.

Lanment of a Crazed Clown

2009-02-23T10:21:00.002-05:00

"I don't hold innocence in high regard. Everyone has it, everyone loses it."

~Tweedles

Dorothy's Woe

2009-02-11T21:57:00.006-05:00

"Oh, I don't think there's anything in that black bag for me."

~Dorothy Gale

Dreaming

2009-02-07T13:21:00.006-05:00

i am dreaming that i will know you, know you, and knew you.
i am dreaming that you have let her go.
i am dreaming that we are Perfect.
i am unconscious.

I See Dead People

2009-02-05T21:15:00.004-05:00

I am unsure, but I think I could be dead; or at the very least cycling through some kind of insidious flux of birth and death.

Every Wednesday for the past 4 weeks I have gone to my CS125 computer class up at CW Post. We talk about things like numbering systems, logical equivalency and Boolean algebra. In last night's class, while trying to figure out how this agony could possibly be applied in my everyday life, I realized that not only was I sitting in the same seat as all previous weeks, but so was everyone else. A quick look around the classroom showed their sad, soul-less faces barely able to remain conscious. My gaze turned to the professor and it was then that I realized he was a exact replication of the weeks gone by, right down to the clothes he was wearing.

Of course, others might consider the possibility that the professor's salary is a mere pittance and he only owns one outfit. But I suspect something way more dubious. I am thinking that I am either dead and caught in some vapid holding area while I await my next fate (be it hell or more hell) or I am living and dying every week and my mind continually recreates the same material reality because it does not know what else to do.

In either case, I am concerned; I'm unsure if this is the same outfit I have been wearing every Wednesday. If it is, then I really have made a poor wardrobe choice. I hate to think that I was either buried in this outfit or that it's the only thing I am able to manifest on a continual basis.

Letters From The War: November 23, 3008

2009-02-03T11:56:00.005-05:00

November 23, 3008

Darling,

I am writing to tell you that I have been seriously injured in a battle that took place not far from the harbor. Please know that I am okay, but it will be sometime before I am able to get back on my feet and tend to matters myself.

These past three years of war have seemed to sap my ability to make good judgments. We were caught off guard while on a mission deep in enemy territory. Had it not been for the persistence and skill of my men, I would not be alive. Their confidence in my abilities makes me weep; I do not want to let them down.

My number one has come to me with a new plan. When I am feeling better, we will go through the details together more thoroughly... but I must tell you that it is fraught with danger and for the first time, I am frightened. I long to be back home; how ever did I get here?

Miss you terribly.

Love Always,
Abbott

True

2009-01-30T11:36:00.003-05:00

T & F | ~F | T & ~ (F | ~T) & T

This expression is the only thing that I can verify to be TRUE. Everything else does not follow any logic whatsoever.

j

2009-01-21T09:23:00.002-05:00

Last night, I saw a side to her that I had never witnessed before; she provided tenderness and warmth that was so desperately needed. I did not want to cry when I saw her but it was inevitable. As she held me close, I could feel her intentions. I tried to stay present. I could smell her scent on her clothes, feel her breathing and hear her heart beating. In that moment, I knew she understood everything about me: my grief, guilt, sadness, terrible remorse and pain. She has been living the same story. I love her, I am thankful for our friendship and the temporary cessation of suffering that her arms provided.

Presence

2009-01-19T09:17:00.006-05:00

This much I can tell you:
I have experienced brief moments of the stillness of my mind; what he calls the gap between thought. The absence of pain and suffering while in these moments is beyond the ability of words to convey. This is the place to be, but my mind is so powerful, it draws me back in to its suffering and madness; its horrid disease of compulsion.

My goal is to put together some type of study group to review his work, to go through the teachings together. My hope would be that perhaps a group setting would enable presence to be sustained for longer periods of time... power attained in the raising of a collective consciousness. Maybe then a teacher can be found to help deepen the understanding and an end to suffering might be possible.

Binary Numbers

2009-01-15T10:47:00.002-05:00

I now know how to add and subtract binary numbers. Will this get me a date for Friday or Saturday night??

The Pool

2009-01-14T14:35:00.003-05:00

She told me the pool is shallow in the south.
I told her the pool is shallow in the north.
We both agree that the pool is shallow.

Assessment:
No Diving Allowed!

Just Curious...

2009-01-12T11:59:00.008-05:00

Where do bitches come from?
Why is the sky blue?
Will I be able to run a mile today?
Am I really a dark kinda girl?
Can my charm and wit buy me a ride on the subway?

In spite of it all...

2009-01-09T13:11:00.001-05:00

...still a 4.0

I amaze even myself. Excellent.

Comfort

2009-01-08T00:38:00.007-05:00

My thoughts swirled around just like smoke. I sat there screaming in my head: "Where am I? I am lost, hopelessly lost!" My heart ached for my mother; that she might have loved me; that I might have ever known her arms. Then I thought about you and remembered the moment that I had fallen in love. How I wish I could smell your hair just one more time and that I could have you hold me so I would experience comfort in what has become my darkest hour. I know I will get better, but this does not negate my overwhelming need to be comforted. I am human; I am aching to be held.

Today's Assessment; Plans

2009-01-07T15:42:00.005-05:00

Slept in late
Plead down speeding ticket to lesser charge
Raging cramps
Bikini line growing into more acceptable design
Workout later; only up to running .5 mile but heart feels ok
If cramps subside enough, then possible open mic night with the girls.

Daydream Addiction

2009-01-06T15:39:00.005-05:00

I must figure out a way to stop daydreaming. Pretty thoughts, lascivious desires, ludicrous hopes... ugh what a fucking nightmare.

Modifications to my code

2009-01-04T10:00:00.006-05:00

Holy shit... my code has been modified! My program might not work. Was any testing done? How about some error trapping or exception handling? (I really have some serious doubts about how it is going to handle the normal flow of execution.) Did anyone bother to comment in the sections of code that were changed? What!!! No commenting at all?!?! How do you expect me to dig through millions of lines of code to find the problem? Do you have a backup copy of my original uncompiled version? No? Have you lost your mind? Nice, very nice.

Square One

2009-01-01T18:08:00.002-05:00

Square One,
yes... hello again.
shaky, unsure; all new steps
and everything so confusing,
with not much to grab onto.

Square One,
you are an old friend.
barely floating; almost sinking
i'll pretend to swim
so that you think i will make it.

Tale of the Tape

2008-12-30T11:35:00.003-05:00

modified Jesus Christ Superstar workout to include more abs and thighs
showered
screwed up bikini line very badly
pedicure
spoke with my boss

"citch" quotes

2008-12-27T15:02:00.003-05:00

"You are going to have a hard time finding someone to love you..."

Today's Questions

2008-12-22T12:36:00.003-05:00

i keep doing crunches so why is my core not tighter?
is my heart strong enough for my workouts?
how many calories were in those brownies? (core problem?)
am i crazy?
where did i put my gps?
is this medication making me forgetful?
what does she have that made me feel so much?
am i going to finish this next cd or what?
why can't i load call of duty on my laptop?
what should i call my rock band's name?

think, think, think!

2008-12-20T10:51:00.008-05:00

glasses, warm brown pin points, a blond? what! why!
fingers, hips... i imagine warmth, softness.

think, think, think!

i am taken, taken; so are you, nice.
mouth, tongue, teeth.
o christ... oops, i forgot... no god.
ugh... ok then: SHIT!

think, think, think!

brilliant, conscious, wounded? don't look!
two, two hundred... two hundred million miles away.

think, think, think!

i am taken, taken; so are you, nice.
sentience, empathy, sensitivity.
jesus, mary, joseph and all the saints... what?
ugh... ok then: MORE SHIT!

think, think, think!

Flowers

2008-12-20T08:57:00.010-05:00

We sat in the car watching the snow fall and the cold gray water hit the south shore; it was beautiful. I told him everything that has been going on since we last saw each other, the good and the bad. We debated politics and life... pondered science and God. Sometimes we were just silent and watched the snow.

I confessed everything to him about my loves, lusts and desires... my yearning to share myself so completely, my secret coveting of that which is already taken. He said, "Don't do this. Go smell the flowers somewhere else." While the wisdom of these words is the logic that I need, my soul is a passionate mess which finds it hard to heed any sensibility. It seems very illogical not to reach out and touch a perfectly good flower, pull it close so that I can know its scent, then pick it for myself. However, I keep forgetting that I am still a kid and must remember that not every flower can be mine, including the very beautiful ones.

Southpaw Fury #2

2008-12-18T22:03:00.006-05:00

Lately, it seems like even the simplest task has an element of danger. Tonight I nearly ended my MMA career by socking myself in the jaw with my own fist. While putting on a sweatshirt, I inadvertently gave myself a right hook to my gaping maw and actually dislocated my own jaw.

At first I was happy because I thought about the awesome power of my Southpaw Fury fist... but then I realized that I had socked myself with my right hand, not my left... and I could not close my own face. I felt like an ass because I realized that if I had been in the Octagon, I would have had to tap out and cry like a girl.

Breathe

2008-12-18T16:00:00.005-05:00

(Capo 3rd Fret)

Verse 1:
E------- A--- B---------------- E----------------------------- A------ B--------- E---
I don’t ask anything of you. I held you inside me; I fed you full.
E------------------------- A---------------- B---------------------------------------- E-----
I've warmed you and watched you. I’ve shared my blood with you.
E----------------------- A----------- B---------------------------- E----
I know you don’t know me but I’ll give myself to you.

Chorus:
B---------------------- C#M-- F#----------- B----
And after all this time, it’s not so bad.
C#M-------------------- F#-----------
But if you only do one thing,
C#M------------------------- F#------------------------------
and can only think of one thing, come on and
B------ E--
breathe!

Verse 2:
E---------- A---- B----------------------E----
I get on past what they said I do.
E--------------------- A------- B--------------------------E-----
I’ll slam all the critics because I know it’s true.
E--------------- A---- B----------------------E------
They’ve no right to judge what’s mine.
E------------------- A----------- B--------------E-----
And so I will raise you unlike their kind.

Chorus:
B--------------- C#M--------- F#------------------ B------
And all I’m hoping for is that you’re alright.
C#M-------------- F#---
Today is your day!
C#M-------------- F#------------------------
Today is your day! Now come on,
B------ E--
breathe!

Bridge:
F#------- E ---------------------
Take it in; it warms you.
G#M----------------- F#------------------------ B---
The sting of the air tells you you’re alive.
B ------------- E---------------------------------- F#--
And if you doubt for a moment then cry!
B-------------------- F#------------- E-------
Cry it out from inside, your alive!
F#----------- E -------------------------
Shake the fear that holds you.
G#M----------------- F#--------------------------- B---
The flash of the light tells you you’re alive.
B ------------- E---------------------------------- F#--
And if you doubt for a moment then cry!
B-------------------- F#------------- E-------
Cry it out from inside, your alive!

Verse 3:
E--------- A--- B-------------- E-------------------------- A---------- B----- E---
I don’t ask anything of you. But today you give me, all of you.
B-------------- C#M---------- F#------------------ B-----
And all I’m hoping for is the world for you.
C#M-------------- F#---
Today is your day.
C#M-------------- F#-------------------------------
Today is your birthday. Now come on,
B------ E--
breathe!

So Far Today...

2008-12-17T09:11:00.002-05:00

Woke up
Impure thoughts
Pondered the day's potential events
Self-Abuse (Spiritual, Emotional, Physical)
Purell
Thought about all that I have done wrong
Worked out; heart holding out ok (Felt Better)
Facial
Shower, Shave, Manicure, Pedicure

Feel pretty good; this plan seemed to work.
Repeat as necessary.

Construction of a Song: We hate to break it to you

2008-12-15T13:09:00.015-05:00

chorus:

Am --------- G ------------------ F ------------
we hate to break it to you Lisasmith
C --------------------
it goes like this:
Am ------------------- F-------------------------
your motorcycle, their warm red lips
C ------------------------- G --------------------
girls with heels and awesome tits...
C -- G -------- F ------ C
it's plain to see...
F----------------------------------------------------
if you would just admit it to yourself
C----------------------------------------
we could get you all the help you need
F ----------------------------------------------------------------
to relieve your private little deaths,
C ------------------------- G ---------------- C----
as girls like you we know what's best.

"Today is your lucky day."

2008-12-15T11:42:00.010-05:00

Today, while on the way to my doctor's appointment, I took the front end of my blue Prius and gently knocked it into the back end of a black Lexus. Normally, I would have thought that nailing such a piece of high-end ass would be extremely exciting however, I found myself remaining rather apathetic to the situation. In fact, I would have to say that I was completely devoid of all emotion (kinda the way it's been for a few months now.) Anyway, I knew that I was in trouble when the blond got out of the car and said "Well that was just not necessary!!!" Now, did this bridge troll really think that I thought it was necessary to ram her in the ass? All I could say was: "Let's pull over." Her response: "Yes, we're pulling over."

Once we were out of traffic's way and upon further inspection, it was clear that the "damage" was some scuff marks. Since I had rear-ended her, I was ready to accept full responsibility. I pulled out my license and insurance card and was going to call the police. At this point I am still blank and pretty much empty from the core of my soul to my outer shell of a body. (This is really not pertinent to the story. It is more like some added drama so you will feel sorry for me.)

She dialed her phone, which I am expecting to be the police, but as it turns out it is most likely some boyfriend, husband or lover of sorts. As she is telling him about my act of treachery he must have been asking her if it is smashed or dented. I can hear her telling him, "No it is not dented at all. It is fine, just paint scuffs." I assume he says something along the lines of: "...no need to call the cops" and "...don't worry about it."

She hangs up the phone and says, "You are lucky." I said, "Don't you want my license information?" In what I imagine to be her snottiest of snittiness, she says, "No. This is your lucky day." She then gets into her car and drives off.

This kinda left me more blank, if that is even possible. Did this twat think that she is the sole dispenser of luck? Christ, she did not know who she was talking to.

My luck is surviving last month's stint in ICU because of heart and respiratory failure. My luck is showing a chick some kick boxing moves and watching her punch like a girl... or making someone an omelet for breakfast.

What the blond trotch (combination of twat and crotch) did not realize was that it really was her lucky day. If I had not been so completely blank when our paths intertwined, I might have gotten her back, locked in my double leg hooks and snuffed her out with a deeply sunk rear-naked choke.

Green?

2008-12-12T10:38:00.011-05:00

Last night I had a dream that I received word from you. Oddly, it was a letter and not an email.

I held the envelope in my hands and instinctively brought it up to my nose. When I breathed in, it smelled like your hair, or at least how I think I remember it to be. I trembled with excitement and despair, like a girl holding the news from a lover that has gone off at war.

I opened the letter and saw your penmanship. I stared at the curves and shapes of all the letters; you had written 2 lines. The first line was in German. The second I guess, was the translation in English. It said:

"The grass is becoming green again."

When I woke up this morning, I did not remember the dream at first. I sat there on my bed thinking about the day ahead of me and as I scanned my brain for anything useful, this dream popped in to my mind. I put my head in my hands and rubbed my eyes. We are just barely at winter. The trees are completely bare and the grass is so far from becoming green again that it makes me laugh and cry at the same time. Even a girl will little or no experience can see just how far the road to spring will be.

Bitches with UGGS

2008-12-04T05:03:00.008-05:00

I can't take anymore; it has now come down to stirring me from my broken and unsatisfying sleep. First, I only saw them occasionally: on some feet here or there, in the mall or on a chick or two at the Chinese buffet. But now... they haunt me in my dreams. I am talking about the dreadful epidemic of Ugg wearing bitches. How did this holocaust of a shoe make it over here? Shouldn't it remain in the Australian outback where it belongs? Doesn't anyone else besides me realize that this shoe (and I loosely call it "shoe") is hideous beyond comprehension?

I noticed how serious the problem was when I walked around the CW Post campus this week. At every turn I spotted a pair of leggings tucked into a creepy formless shoe called the Ugg. It was as though an unwarranted species with its defective DNA had maliciously been forced into replication and attached itself to the feet of over 98% of the XX beings that were staggering across the grounds.

I liken it to Invasion of the Body Snatchers meets the senseless cloning of Dolly the sheep. Imagine: a sea of drones, stripped of all emotion and passion, cloned with a selfish, reckless abandon, thereby resulting in the shameful proliferation of a catastrophic fashion trend. It is a sci-fi horror film indeed.

To make matters worse, this horrific visage has now seeped into my dreams, evading whatever escape from reality is possible for me at this point. Last night I dreamt that I was surrounded by a gaggle of bitches who were repeated delivering roundhouse kicks to my skull with their Ugged foot.

Now that both my dreaming and waking state have been exposed to a suffering I never knew possible, the best thing I can hope for is that I do not become further exposed and then infected with this Ugginess.

'You are the Quary" Quotes

2008-11-28T15:02:00.002-05:00

"... and why did you stick me in self-deprecating bones and skin, Jesus- do you hate me?"

~Morrissey

Vanilla

2008-11-23T12:26:00.005-05:00

One of the best things I have had lobbed in my direction this past week:

"It's ok. Some people like vanilla."

I suddenly felt less ashamed. What a fucking relief.

Prayer to Saint Jude: Paraphrased Lisasmith Style

2008-11-20T19:56:00.004-05:00

It has been a while since I have done some paraphrasing, so I figured it was about high time that I revisit this comforting clarification of tricky text passages.

Recently I have been ensnared in some personal lost causes; very sad. Then I remembered that although my pain body resonates with the Jewish people, I am really a Catholic girl. One of the many benefits of being Catholic is having a slew of Saints to pray to for help. Saint Jude is the Patron Saint of Lost Causes. Here we go:

Lisasmith Style:
Excuse me, very sanctified disciple, Saint Jude, steadfast supporter and BFF of Jesus -- personages all around give you major props and supplicate you across the board, as a benefactor of futile causes, of things that just won't fucking happen. Pray for me, for I am powerless and completely isolated. I beg of you be swift and lend me a hand... and please don't give me any cryptic signs of assistance; I need some hardcore proof. Give me some intervention in this ginormous request that I could get the pity and heavenly bailout in all of my requirements, afflictions and agony, particular with my most recent nuclear melt down and that I may pay tribute to the Omnipotent one with you forever and ever and in perpetuity. I pledge to you O sacred Saint Jude, to never forget how you got my back on this one, to always credit you as my noteworthy and formidable patron and to gratefully inspire allegiance to you by publishing this request. Respectfully, Lisasmith.

Original Version:
O most holy apostle, St. Jude, faithful servant and friend of Jesus -- People honor and invoke you universally, as the patron of hopeless cases, of things almost despaired of. Pray for me, for I am so helpless and alone. Please help to bring me visible and speedy assistance. Come to my assistance in this great need that I may receive the consolation and help of heaven in all my necessities, tribulations, and sufferings, particularly (state your own personal request here) and that I may praise God with you always. I promise, O blessed St. Jude, to be ever mindful of this great favor, to always honor you as my special and powerful patron, and to gratefully encourage devotion to you by publishing this request. Amen.

Laws of the Universe

2008-11-05T15:21:00.005-05:00

The Universe is a big bitch with a crap ass attitude. Here are her laws; read them and weep.

Nice guys finish last.
The glass is half empty.
Yes, go ahead... turn the other cheek so that it will be easier to get smacked again.
It's always bitches; they ruin everything.
Karma is dead.
Blonds have more fun.
If at first you don't succeed, try, try again... if you fail on the third try, kill yourself (you suck anyway).
Pretty girls lie.
Thou shall not steal... but for everyone else, it is ok.
TV will add 10 lbs. to your weight.

Dissolution of the Image of Me

2008-11-02T10:24:00.002-05:00

The image of me dissolves when there is great loss.

The Yongest of Sages

2008-10-27T18:27:00.006-04:00

Even the youngest of sages is more brilliant than I could ever hope to be. When I told her my tale of woes, suffering and heartache, she said:

"Everything ends in tears... and one day... you will break someone's heart just as your heart has been broken. That's the way it is; life is a cycle."

We are lost.

2008-10-16T13:56:00.002-04:00

"What can I do and how escape my mother's hands?"

"O my dear brother, I cannot tell. We are lost."

- Medea's Children

Waterproof Watch

2008-10-15T10:06:00.002-04:00

Yesterday, I knew I would be submerged so I decided early that morning to wear my waterproof watch. Good thing, because at least I knew the exact time and depth of decent when I cried out to be rescued. Of course no one answered, so I had to drag myself back to shore... but that is beside the point. Today I am going to go out and by swimmies in an effort to prevent any future incidents.

Vinegar

2008-10-13T10:00:00.005-04:00

Vinegar: sour and angry pinching the taste buds on my tongue,
burning the softness of my lips and catching its tender creases.
It stings to remind me that my pain is self-induced.

"My heart is stabbing me in the head."

2008-10-12T22:30:00.004-04:00

Christ... I feel awful.

In the words best spoken by my beloved Cherubini as he once again misquoted my brilliant prose: "My heart is stabbing me in the head." He is brilliant.

Chocolate

2008-10-08T15:47:00.005-04:00

A single box of chocolate was made for me. I opened it to peer inside and found 12 beautifully decorated chocolates sectioned off neatly in equally divided spaces and set on top of fine white paper. I looked at each one and wondered which would be my first.

Like all chocolate, the smell was gorgeous and it caught the back of my throat making my mouth water. I studied each one carefully and tried to think which would be the smoothest, most delectable choice. Each held its own unique elegance, but one stood out and caught my eye.

Unsure, I reached for it, imagining what could be inside. What flavor, what surprise would satiate my desire? In my fingers, the cool chocolate seemed to melt and yield to the warmth of my fingers and when placed on my tongue it gave me the impression that its dark sweetness would pair well with my desire. It made me close my eyes and breath in deeply so that my smell and taste could fully understand the flavor. I swallowed and the chocolate became part of me; I wanted more. But when I looked back in the box I realized that it had been only one of its kind.

Good Idea

2008-10-06T22:34:00.003-04:00

It was a good idea to take the route up the gold coast, traveling through the towns. The greens, the trees, the glimpses of water cutting through the scenery; all this made me believe for an instant that it was real.

Pursuit of the Painless Brazilian

2008-10-03T21:46:00.000-04:00

The pursuit of the painless Brazilian has led me down the path of another lost $100. I have been disappointed again by one more crap-ass electric shaver. I don't know why I can't just toughen up and deal with the wax job.

Let this post serve as a warning to you: Don't waste your money on the Body Bare Electric Shaver Kit. This thing really sucks. A new Gillette Mach3 Razor, a can of Barbasol and a carefully executed plan of attack will blow this thing away.

¿Papá, dónde estás?

2008-10-03T16:22:00.001-04:00

¿Papá, dónde estás? Mi corazón esta roto y yo te necesito para que me digas que todo estará bien. Te he llamado muchas veces, pero no me contestas. ¿Estás ahí? ¿Me puedes escuchar?

Today is Cream

2008-10-01T15:03:00.004-04:00

Today is cream as I remember the softness of skin and the milky smoothness of a tongue that stayed in my mouth long after you left me. And warm — warm cream that aroused me, made me feel lust or perhaps something even worse; love.

Girl Mace

2008-10-01T09:37:00.003-04:00

Her plan all along was to attack and render me defenseless, this much I knew. But instead of grabbing the 8 inch kitchen knife and cutting out my heart or stabbing me in the head (something I was prepared to defend myself against), she reached into her bag and grabbed her Girl Mace. When I was not paying attention, she sprayed me.

The stinging, venomous stuff made direct contact with my eyeballs and seeped down into my sockets, liquefying my optic nerves and causing immediate blindness. What remained of my eyeballs subsequently dripped onto the floor.

As I fell to my knees in search of my vision, she hit me with another blast from the Girl Mace canister. I dropped backwards gasping for air, writhing on the ground. While I lay there sobbing, I could hear her slip the Girl Mace back into her bag and walk away.

Suffer Lover

2008-09-30T15:33:00.001-04:00

You don’t want to be here.
She’s leaving with him, you are falling apart.
There’s nothing to see here.
Stay where you are, she gets in his car.
She don’t want you, that’s too bad.

She’s don’t even know you.
It’s almost as if you are not even here.
She won’t ever need you.
You can’t even dress or tie you own shoes.
She don’t want you, that’s too bad.
She don’t need you and that’s so bad

You suffer lover, you don’t get love her.
She feels like no other, but you’ll never discover.

Go back to your bedroom.
Just lie in your bed and cry her away.
Though it never gets better.
It’s safer to stay and weep where you lay.
And you don’t have her and that’s too bad.

Now what would your friends say?
They’d tell you, "You’re simply wasting your time."
They’d take you to dinner.
You’d eat and you’d drink and get drunk on their dime.
But you don’t have them and that’s too bad.
And you still want her and that’s so bad.

You suffer lover, you don’t get love her.
She feels like no other, but you’ll never discover.
You suffer lover, you don’t get fuck her.
She feels like no other, but you’ll never discover.

She don’t want you, she’d never be seen with a creep like you.
She don’t need you; you’re not even worth the crap on her shoes.

The Sky's Intuition

2008-09-15T10:00:00.001-04:00

Even the sky knew my misery; it was gray and cloudy all day.

Everything, Something, Nothing

2008-07-04T12:50:00.001-04:00

I may be crazy. I may be wicked. I may be wrong.
I may seem lazy; too tired to make it work. I am not that strong.
So don't you tempt me with your honey.
And don't you smile at me funny because you might get hurt.

It is everything or something? Or nothing at all?
Don't tell me she's your girl and you wear her well
and that I am wrong.

I've not seen Paris. I've not seen Venice, or even Rome.
Yet I know what love is. I don't need to travel to feel alone.
So don't you tempt me with your honey.
And don't you smile at me funny because I might get hurt.

It is everything or something? Or nothing at all?
Come on... tell me: everything or something, or nothing at all.
But don't tell me she's your girl and you wear her well
and that I am wrong.

The Serenity Request: Paraphrasing Lisasmith Style

2008-06-04T15:19:00.007-04:00

Ah yes, paraphrasing... one of my favorite pastimes. There is nothing I enjoy more than cry for help that has been glossed over to try and sound pretty.

You have probably heard this one before:
"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."

What this really means is:
"Oh Christ, is it possible that you could offer me any comfort now that I realize I am completely powerless? Perhaps you could give me a hand and try to help make something go my way... or at the very least, just tell me what the fuck is going on so I can try to figure it out on my own."

yeah (sink)

2008-06-04T15:14:00.001-04:00

What's this you one time spoke of... something called love?
What's this I somewhat choke on... something called love?
And they lie to me when they said I'd tremble and feel just fine.
And they lie to me when they said desire won't cloud my mind.

And yeah, you really do it for me.
Yeah... you really did it to me.
Yeah, you really do it for me.
You make me sink.

What's this some odd joke of something called love?
Where do these feelings come from, this something called love?
What a hopeless mess of dire emotion to dwell upon!
What a confounded request of my broken heart: to bleed this song

And yeah, you really do it for me.
Yeah... you really did it to me.
Yeah, you really do it for me.
You make me sink.

What's this you one time spoke of... something called love?
What's this I somewhat choke on... something called love?
And you lie to me when you said I'd tremble and feel just fine.
And you lie to me when you said desire won't cloud my mind.

And yeah, you really do it for me.
Yeah... you really did it to me.
Yeah, you really do it for me.
You make me sink.

I want to believe.

2008-06-04T15:09:00.002-04:00

I look at you and I want to believe.
But you make me nervous.
You've no proof of this God who loves us;
and if there was he don't deserve us.
I have seen your Lord.
I have seen your God and I won't be swayed

I held a man as he slipped into darkness.
I watched him leave as death drew to part us.
And what do I think about it?
Well, I think it's such a fucking God damn waste!
They lied to us like children.
They fed our heads with piety and grace.

I heard this girl was raped and then beaten.
He dug a grave and buried her still breathing.
And what do i think about it?
I think it such a fucking God damn shame!
This God is such a coward!
He just can't seem to tame the men he's made.

So, what the hell is he doing?
Does have no time to show his face?
Does he know it is all ruined?
There is a foul stench about this whole damn place.
So free me! Free me! Let me be!
Free me, free me from Trinity.
Free me, grant me swift release so I might live and die in peace.

I look at you and I want to believe.
But you make me too nervous.
You've no proof of this God who loves us;
and if there was he don't deserve us.
I have seen your Lord.
I have seen your God and I won't be swayed

Daddy

2008-05-30T10:11:00.004-04:00

Daddy, where are you? Please comfort me the way that I tried to comfort you while you lay dying in our arms. I miss you and the life we might have had together.

Her Beauty

2008-05-30T09:59:00.005-04:00

They'll only last awhile; her beauty will fuel their fire and burn with great suspense. His eyes will flood her sense. Before they know it's wrong, their love and trust is gone. He holds her near and whispers softly, "O I fear, her beauty can't be compared to the sights and sounds that surround me."

They'll only last awhile; her beauty will quench his desire and serve his false pretense. He'll not care that she has no defense. He'll give her love and gifts to make up for his wife and kids. She holds him near; he whispers softly: "O I fear, her beauty can't be compared to the sights and sounds that surround me."

Happiest When

2008-03-08T00:55:00.004-05:00

I was happiest when I loved nothing and all was meaningless. The numbness of that existence was a comfort to which I had become accustomed. Now I find myself wandering around the grounds of my own life with my heart in my hands, showing it to anyone who might look at it and offer me some way of repair.

To feel something is more painful than I had ever imagined. Might it all go away and leave me in a numb, blank state? The plague of hope and delusion has besieged me! Can one die from this ravage?

A mute tongue, but a mind that races wildly with thought; oh leave me now, you have soured me to your taste. You have weakened me to my most broken state. You are love and I hate the sight of you. Go, go away now - do not make a bitter girl poisonous.

You should have been there when he died. Had you been a witness, we would not be where we are today.

Night, Tar, Coal

2008-02-20T23:20:00.006-05:00

Tonight there was a full moon and a lunar eclipse. It was interesting to see just how pitch black the sky could get without the moon. It was almost as black as my heart which has collapsed since I have been without you.

Night, Tar, Coal

I am blackness: like terrifying night,
like flaming tar, like grimy coal.

Moonless and inky,
abandoned by Eros,
its beat is Arctic in essence.
I strain my eyes to see
and I open her wider and wider,
but nothing. I simply feel nothing.

Searing and blistered,
the pitch feathered with shame,
I’ve made myself the example.
I would hide what I am
and wipe the sorrow away but it spreads,
burning me. Burning all that is me.

Polluted and black,
daubed with an oily soot,
it is a fuel for my madness.
Amorphous carbon stains,
my purity of mind is defiled
and filthy. Yes, everything filthy.

The Old Testament God Killed My Cat

2008-01-27T09:10:00.000-05:00

After my father's passing, I had no use for believing in God. I had watched my father die a rather agonizing death and it seemed absurd to continue practicing the traditions of my Roman Catholic brainwashing.

The loss of religion was actually quite a liberating experience. I no longer felt like I was being watched or judged. My personal shame and disgrace began to dissipate, and I had a general feeling of healing and well being. I must admit that I did experience times of loneliness and anger. Jesus had been a huge part of my life and now, he and his powers were gone. However, once I was able to use my powers of rationalization, the new found knowledge of "no God" was a plausible sensibility that could not be overlooked.

As a girl without a God, I had a lot of catching up to do. I needed to search for the meaning of life. This lead to a very difficult year filled with disappointment. When God exists, you can blame Him for everything. Things like: "Oh, it's in God's hands." or "The good Lord knows what's best." are all very wonderful explanations for woeful suffering. For me, now that God was gone, I could only blame myself.

For the next two years, I struggled with my search until one very sad night, in a moment of weakness spurred on by three Sam Adams Cherry Wheat beverages, I wept in my bed and spoke out loud to God. "Please help me. If you exist, I need an unmistakable sign from you." I fell asleep.

The next morning when I got up, I searched my world for signs. There was nothing to be seen; I wasn't particularly surprised. I worked all day long and did not get home until very late that night. Then, almost 24 hours to the minute, God revealed His sign to me. I walked into my house to find my favorite cat "Little Bean" dead in the spot where he always sleeps. I looked up at the ceiling and said: "God, you mean bastard! This is your sign? Unbelievable!"

I reached down to pet Little Bean; he was like a little furry brick. I sobbed. I was panicking and did not know what to do. So I called my sister Terri and asked her for help; I knew that she would know what to do. She arrived with her husband Paul. My sister snapped right into action: she grabbed a blanket and my cat carrier. When I was done saying my goodbyes, Paul covered Little Bean, picked him up and put him in the carrier. We placed him in the garage for the evening so that I could take him to be cremated in the morning.

Alone that night, I stewed in anger and grief. I was so wrong. This was my unmistakable sign. It told me three things: God is real, He doesn't like cats and I am a Jew. It was the mean Old Testament God that had given me my sign, not the nicer one from the New Testament. The Old Testament God is angry and wrathful. He creates plagues of locusts and disease, kills first born sons, turns people into pillars of salt and murders perfectly healthy little cats. If I really was Catholic and God was the New Testament God, then I would have expected something like a vision of Jesus or Mary's face in the fur patterns of Little Bean or perhaps (worst case scenario) stigmata marks on his little paws. But that was not what happened.

So for the past week I have been walking around as a sad, cat-less Jew. Unable to process these recent events, I went to see my good friend Crock who is somewhat of an oracle or sage. I told him about the past week's events: my drunken plea to God, the murder of my cat and the fact that I am really a Jew. He listened patiently to my story, then spoke: "Lisasmith, God is a mean mother-fucker. He did kill your cat, but you have missed the real sign. The sign is that in the moment of deepest despair, your family and friends will be there to help. You only need to ask them. And as for being a Jew, well... I don't know what to tell you." I sat there mystified at his wisdom. How did I miss the sign? I am not a Jew or Gentile, I am an fucking idiot.

When Crock and I parted ways, I felt lighter and more at ease. Maybe I still didn't know the meaning of life or have proof of God's existence but I did have a new tool to aid in my journey. I will ask my family and friends for help whenever I am doubtful, troubled or in despair.

Sleeping Again

2008-01-02T23:15:00.001-05:00

Have I fallen back to sleep? Yes! Yes! I believe I am sleeping.
Help me please, for I can not find my way back to you while in this dream.

Fat Bastard

2007-12-20T19:51:00.000-05:00

7:54PM
"Garçon! Garçon! Sil vous plaît... as quick as you can, bring me a bottle of wine from your cellar that has the highest alcohol content so that I might get through this meal with a smile." -Lisasmith

9:00 PM
"You Fat Bastard! You beautiful Chardonnay, you! Thank you for getting me through this lonely evening. You are an angel listening patiently to the woeful tale of how I broke my own heart. I adore you, but I pray that we never have to meet again." - Lisasmith

Number One Kiss

2007-12-19T22:37:00.001-05:00

With her arms outstretched, a belly full of heartache, and tears rolling down her face, He ignored her plea and made her anyway. He took her husband, emptied her womb and tried to make her look the same as all the rest. He then placed her down on the soil of the earth and told her to walk. She staggered across the planet and when it seemed like she just might stand and catch her footing He would kick her down, smile and say:
"What? You are a sad thing! You're something;
you want me to help for nothing.
I am sorry, you will die like this.
She will always be your number one kiss."

Empty Aching Head

2007-12-19T22:21:00.001-05:00

Oh empty, aching head that counts over and over again, what is this that you've become? Your pattern is nothing. You make no sense; existing only to numb me. I can not silence you, though your very predictable self makes me mute with confusion. Who are you to come into my head and take away my even calm and smother me with loss. Go away, because with you I can not go on and without her I am lost.

Georgy Girl: Paraphrased Lisasmith Style

2007-12-12T16:43:00.002-05:00

Whenever I feel like swing from a noose (which is nearly everyday), I turn on my iPod and listen to the song Georgy Girl. I just can't seem to be miserable when I hear this song. Could it be the happy melody or the high pitched voices signing in unison? Or perhaps it is the gay whistling interlude section. Even though I am a terrible whistler, I just keep trying to whistle along. This song makes me want to live; or at least live long enough to get the whistling down.

Here is Geogry Girl paraphrased, Lisasmith style:
Excuse me, Georgy female, sauntering down the road like you have no fucking problems... No one would imagine that you are a completely empty shell. Uh, pardon me, Georgy XX... what is the reason you are unable to land a guy? Is it that you have made no effort at all or do you have absolutely no fashion sense?

Why do you just look at things on the rack instead of buying something nice to wear? It is time you got rid of that unfashionable plumage and take wing! What do you think?

Excuse me Georgy person with a vagina, a Georgy exists that is the complete antithesis of your current being; dig deeper girl. Any amorous feelings that you have should be unfurled; the modification would be immense. This planet would then have the vision of a reinvented Georgy female.

Pardon me, Georgy person that is not a male, while in a state of rapid eyeball movement, you contemplate the concept of another existence. Wake up girl, running never works. Yes, it is horrifying to have to transmute your being into something else; but you need to leap off that cliff; I mean, you have to try something already.

Original Lyrics
(Words by Jim Dale and Music by Tom Springfield)
Hey there, Georgy girl
Swingin' down the street so fancy-free
Nobody you meet could ever see the loneliness there - inside you
Hey there, Georgy girl
Why do all the boys just pass you by?
Could it be you just don't try or is it the clothes you wear?

You're always window shopping but never stopping to buy
So shed those dowdy feathers and fly - a little bit

Hey there, Georgy girl
There's another Georgy deep inside
Bring out all the love you hide and, oh, what a change there'd be
The world would see a new Georgy girl

[Instrumental Interlude]

Hey there, Georgy girl
Dreamin'; of the someone you could be
Life is a reality, you can't always run away
Don't be so scared of changing and rearranging yourself
It's time for jumping down from the shelf - a little bit

Hey there, Georgy girl
There's another Georgy deep inside
Bring out all the love you hide and, oh, what a change there'd be
The world would see a new Georgy girl

The Life of A Squirrel

2007-12-10T17:33:00.000-05:00

The Difficulties
How difficult could the life of squirrel really be? I saw a few scampering about the neighborhood today and they looked very happy. In fact, they looked happier than the sum of every happy moment in my life. This made me dream of the possibility of having lived my life as a squirrel. I know I’d have to watch out for cats and birds; owls are probably deadly. Car tires would be disastrous, but beyond that I think life might be pretty good.

Screwing, Eating and Crapping
Life as a squirrel would allow me to trot around the town, hang out and meet other squirrels. Since I would not be saddled with the torment of having impure thoughts, I could act out my passions and screw indiscriminately. With the burden of procreation programed into my DNA, I would have a perfect excuse for any copulatory-like encounters.

Foraging for food could be problematic. But even in my human form, I have difficulty figuring out what to eat, so I am accustomed to this circumstance. Anyway, chewing makes me tired.

As for crapping, the whole world is a toilet; I could probably crap anywhere I wanted. I would of course be courteous and ask my friends: “Hey squirrel friends, do you mind if I take a crap over here?” They would probably say something like: “Oh sure Lisasmith, go right ahead. We crapped there yesterday. It is a good place crap.”

Squirrel Bitches
My guess is that just as there are bitches in human life, there are probably squirrels bitches. Squirrels bitches would most likely dig up your winter nuts, tell you that the car is moving slow enough to make it across the street and talk behind your back. These kinds of squirrels would need to be avoided. Eeek! Thievery, lies, and betrayal; this sounds like human bitches! I had not thought this through until I got to this paragraph. God, those poor squirrels. Maybe their life isn’t that easy after all; not with squirrel bitches running around.

My Last Defeat

2007-12-07T23:32:00.000-05:00

Tonight I returned to the scene of my last defeat. It was much colder this time, but the air still held the familiar sting... and I don't mean the Jack Frost nipping at your nose kind of sting. I am talking about the sting from the bite of what it feels like to loose. As I walked down the street, I could still see the crime scene tape roping off my folly and could hear the jeers from the home crowd in my head saying: "Oh yes, nice going Lisasmith."

Breaking Habits

2007-11-28T23:57:00.000-05:00

Today was a new day. I promised myself that I would break my bad habits. From this point on, I will no longer have hope or chase dreams that can never exist. I am going to purge myself of these filthy addictions.

I parked my car in a new spot. I walked on concrete that my shoes had never known. When dreams entered my head, I turned up the music to drown them out and when hope entered my heart, I blackened it out with anger.

The agony of these methods has so far been less than that of my silly hopes and dreams.

Simon Says

2007-11-17T15:50:00.000-05:00

I certainly was not there to see him; he just ended up being something of a special bonus prize. Simon approached the podium with a shy humbleness that you often do not get to see in a man. His tie was crooked so he straighten it and moved the microphone closer to his mouth. His hair was thick, wavy and dark... and long, but not too long; he needed to occasionally push it away from his eyes.

Simon began to read his stories. His voice was smooth and beautiful. Initially, his word content was meaningless to me. I listened to the sound of his voice, his accent, his calmness; I became engaged and wanted to hear more. He was cream pouring into coffee; each word spilled into the air and dissolved into the blackness that surrounded me. I knew that if I could reach out and grab his words, they would feel soft, yield to my touch and collapse in the palm of my hand.

When all the readings ended, I moved in his direction to speak with him. I made eye contact and breathed a breath to begin my speech, but instantly stopped myself, turned and walked away. How insanely odd this must have been for him. I wonder what he was thinking; maybe he did not notice at all. I was thinking that I could feel his warmth and sentience. I wished I could have loved him but I knew that boys with prepossessing looks and charms have never been of any use to me.

If I had only known then, what I know now...

2007-11-17T01:38:00.000-05:00

Am I ever going to be the person that I need to be in the moment when I really need myself?

Post My Message

2007-11-15T22:49:00.000-05:00

I walked away from her thinking:
"Fucking shit man... for what it's worth, I am almost like a rock star and yet I can't seem to assert myself as one. What is wrong with me? What is it about this one that makes it so difficult? Crock will have my balls in a sling for this mess up, if I had them that is... I of course have a vagina... so I am not in any real danger of a ball sling issue, now am I?"

I kept walking down the street in the direction of my car. It was cold and I was so tired from working all day then, I realized why things have been wrong:
"I am Samson; without my guitar I have absolutely no fucking powers! If I only had one of them with me - shit I have 15 of them, just one would have done the job... acoustic or electric... it would not have mattered... the Les Paul rip-off might have been nice - it does have the new pickups in it... but I had nothing, so I was a mute witness."

I pushed the button so the light would change in my favor. While I waited, I leaned up against the telephone pole where I noticed thousands upon thousand of staples; remnants of the posted wants and desires of others. For a brief moment, it seemed like the most brilliant idea in the world to go ahead and post my message of want and desire on every telephone pole within a 500 mile radius so that someone might know my words without me ever having to risk a stumble and speak.

With the light on my side, I crossed and thought:
"Another missed opportunity! Or perhaps... a potential disaster averted! Lord knows I don't want to be slapped with charges... or just plain slapped. Either way, I will never know."

Letters From the War: October 11, 3005

2007-11-13T22:02:00.007-05:00

October 11, 3005

My Darling,

How are you dear? I hope you and the children are well. I am fine, and feeling strong, but we have had a terrible misfortune. We have suffered the loss of Commander; the men and I are filled with despair.

We were traveling through the swamps, living like animals; suffering the long days and nights - contaminated food and water supplies, and surrounded by enemy encampments, when Commander fell ill with a strange sickness. It was a blackness that crawled from his insides out. We had never seen such horror and had nothing to ease his suffering. God was unkind and the man lingered for days. I never imagined that one man could endure such pain. We lost him in the morning hours; we were all at his side. This is our first death, and with the men so green, they are shattered. I fear to tell them that this will not be the last or most peaceful death they will witness.

I love you and will write again soon.

Love Always,
Abbott

Long-Term Love Disasters

2007-11-07T22:29:00.000-05:00

The universe must be completely out of alignment. I can't remember being a witness to so many long-term relationships gone bust in a given year. All the brightest, warmest, most beautiful people fell victim, unable to make it work. How could this be possible? Why is love so fucking complicated? This shit should be easy. Then of course, there is my own not too distant past, failed misery. I don't know, I guess love is not made to last.

My skin, stomach and heart

2007-11-05T22:27:00.000-05:00

My body thinks for me. My skin, stomach and heart tell my brain exactly what is happening to me. My brain is too slow and stupid to think, it can only react.

My skin tells me I am cold when goose bumps run up and down my arms or when my fingers turn a pinkish blue. My brain then says, "Oh, we are cold now. Let's do something to warm us." My skin tells me what feels good when it flushes pink and its pores open and sweat. My brain then says, "Oh, that was good. Let's do it again."

My stomach is just as smart and quick. When it flutters and tightens, it tells me that I am filled with adoration. My brain then says, "Oh, we are in love! Let's do something to ruin this." My stomach tells me I am stricken with grief or sorrow when it sours and turns. My brain says, "Oh, we are so sad. What are we to do?"

My heart rules this machine. It pounds furiously to tell me I am gripped with fear and dread. It physically aches when love is lost; it skips beats when found. And my brain in its infinite wisdom can only reply to this heart: "Run!"

Sleep With Me

2007-11-03T10:21:00.000-04:00

I can't fall down, it breaks my heart to crawl across the floor again. I can't slow down, my mind is racing thoughts to turn this thing around. Oh God this thing! Why does it mean anything? Oh God that ring... I feel like a bird with broken wings.

I am so strung out, my stomach twists and turns and throws itself about. I feel you out. I am grasping straws. I am filled with hope and fear and doubt. Oh God this thing! What can I be imagining? Oh God her ring... I am a bird with broken wings.

You turn me on; lower my inhibitions if you please.
And right or wrong, it is all as I intended it to be.
You are gonna love what I do and I know that I will love you too.
So come on, come home and sleep with me.

Do you imagine there is something in my eyes?
Do you imagine it is love in disguise?
Now I will never (thank you), ever be the same.

The Act of Contrition: Paraphrased Lisasmith Style

2007-11-01T14:04:00.000-04:00

Recently, a friend of mine asked me to help her with paraphrasing some stuff for a homework assignment. I had forgotten exactly how much I enjoyed the art of paraphrasing. People have a tendency to pick flowery words in an attempt to cover up the stink of what they are really trying to say. Paraphrasing is an excellent tool for revealing true meaning.

I am going to begin adding some paraphrased gems to this blog. My first entry for paraphrasing will be The Act of Contrition. I have included the original text for you to reference and will do so for future posts as well. There are quite a few versions of this prayer, but this is what I seem to remember from my early days as a young Catholic girl.

Oh omnipotent being, my heart is heavy with the knowledge that I have once again rubbed you the wrong way and I hate my loathsome wickedness because I am really scared of heavenly deprivation and the agony of burning on the lake of fire for all eternity. But the main reason being: because my bad behavior has irked you. It is my goal, with whatever assistance you can provide, to practice repeated self-abasement, to stop my evil ways and to steer clear of everything with the potential to make me do bad things.
Sincerely,
Lisasmith

Original Version:
Oh my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee and I detest all my sins because I dread the loss of heaven and the pains of hell. But most of all because they have offended Thee my God. I firmly intend, with your help, to do penance, to sin no more, and to avoid whatever leads me to sin.
Amen

Southpaw Fury

2007-11-01T07:36:00.000-04:00

My oeuvre rages from the pen of my southpaw fury in a deluge of precision and certitude. My inky black felt-tip is slightly bent now from repeatedly pressing my anger against the pages of my book. It sprays the paper with tiny dots as I draw out each letter, connecting them into words and sentences.

The pinky of my hand drags across my work as if she wishes to smear out the evidence. But she is silly in thought because the ink is quick to dry. Her smudging is in vain because the words, though sometimes dirty and slightly blurred in appearance, can still be read.

I continue to write, pausing only to casually glance at the splotches of ink that have accumulated on this pinky of my southpaw. Occasionally, I put her to my tongue, taste the ink, wipe her clean then continue on.

Until Tomorrow

2007-10-24T21:59:00.000-04:00

Now... what could be so bad that you just could not wait until tomorrow?

My Parallel Universe

2007-10-22T19:08:00.000-04:00

If I leave this place now, I would only be missed for a very short time. I am only as significant as the single leaf of a tree. This places me in a serious dilemma: how long will I stay?

The sad fact is that I might already be gone in my parallel universe. This of course makes me wonder if I am really here right now at all. Perhaps I am just a ghostly image of what I was; and yes, this comforts me and makes the moment more tolerable.

I'm a great shopper! (Why the Commons is no longer safe)

2007-10-21T21:51:00.000-04:00

I was in the Hillwood Commons, minding my own business like I always do. I was wearing my sunglasses so I could avoid eye contact, but this had absolutely no effect because the older, portly gentleman approached me anyway.

After some casual banter, he began his completely out of context, strange discussion about "the butch women softball players" on our school team. (I did not even know we had a team.) Then, he threw me his line:

Suitor: Do you like to shop?

Lisasmith: Yes, I love shopping.
(I was happy to get of the topic of the softball team)

Suitor: Well, here.. take my number. I am a great shopper! Girls love to shop with me.

I believe he was thinking porn shop. I know I was thinking: "Dear Jesus, please help me." Now I need to delete the Commons from my list of safe areas and never return there again.

What I really wanted to say...

2007-10-21T21:42:00.001-04:00

...was something like: "Wow those pants are really cool. I appreciate that you used the brown stitching in the seam to tie in your brown jacket. Nicely done! What color is your hand bag?"

It Is Not A Pot Roast

2007-10-16T13:44:00.000-04:00

It does not help to turn it over and over again in my head. It's not like it is a pot roast that needs to be seared on all sides. They are just thoughts for Christ sake. Leave it alone already.

The XX Factor

2007-10-15T19:57:00.000-04:00

The XX Factor is the magical thing that you just can't put your finger on. It's completely intangible: unseen, unheard, unknown; yet makes something better or more special than the rest.

Due to my latest deprivation of sound judgement, I have been forced into giving much thought to the XX Factor. I've tried to identify it; lure it out from its secret hiding place. I have called out to it: "Make yourself known already, you elusive bitch!" But like everyone else, it does not listen to me. The XX Factor somehow remains cloistered away while enjoying a brazenly obvious existence.

If I only knew where the XX Factor was, then I could fight it. I could invent a super power and battle against it. But instead, I know nothing and will be left in a state of subservience and inveiglement caving to its every whim.

Tangible Benefits Must Be Quantifiable

2007-10-10T23:16:00.000-04:00

Today I refused to walk where I thought your footsteps might have been; a seemingly inconsequential act, but in reality a great effort. When I arrived at my destination, I thought it would have been a good idea to have counted each step. Then my goal could have been measurable, something to calculate, evaluate; to know if I had made any progress at all. Next time, I will count each step. This way I will not only know the distance traveled, but I will also have proof of my progress. Tangible benefits must be quantifiable.

Knock, Knock

2007-10-09T22:07:00.000-04:00

Hello, is there anyone there? Hello?
Am I really here all by myself?

pause...
pause...
pause...

...hmmmm, just as I expected.

Virginia Sky

2007-10-08T18:44:00.000-04:00

I watched the sun glint off all the bumpers that were before me. Hundreds and hundreds stretched out in front of my eyes. As they glimmered in the approaching dusk, it reminded me of the Virginia sky that we stood out and watched this past August. In complete pitch black darkness, so many stars littered the sky that night, I wondered how it was possible to be so. And I imagined, as I tried to give each one my attention, that there was a girl out there in the sky who was just like me, doing exactly the same thing; wishing, wanting and hoping.

Hello It's Me

2007-10-07T21:24:00.000-04:00

Ain't it beautiful if you open your eyes
and see the magic right before.
Every flower reveals its design.
It just begs you to reach out and grab it.

Hello, its me... I'm fine, in a world that's upside down
with no reason and no rhyme.
I can make it this shine, what I seek I shall find.
It feels so right.

Search the sky to find where the next path will lie.
Open arms embrace the morning.
Every star at night will shed its disguise,
it just begs you to reach out and have it.

Hello, its me... I'm fine, in a world that's upside down
with no reason and no rhyme.
I can change at anytime. I'm just waiting her for a sign.

A calming sense surrounds you.
You should know it comes as not surprise.
The mystery won't elude you if you wake and open up your mind.

Hello, its me... I'm fine, in a world that's upside down
with no reason and no rhyme.
I can change at anytime. I'm just waiting her for a sign.

Vascular Malformation of the Tongue

2007-10-04T12:16:00.001-04:00

When most people get laid up, it is with something really cool... like a broken arm from skateboarding, both legs shattered from a skiing disaster or third degree burns on their ass from a homemade tobogganing incident gone awry. But whenever something happens to me, it is always something really gay and embarrassing. Hence, my latest event: tongue surgery.

This past Friday I had surgery on my tongue to correct a congenital defect, a vascular malformation of the tongue: aka... Hemangioma.

The doctor's have hailed the surgery as a smashing success. They have assured me that my tongue will be restored to its prior full working capacity and stellar good looks. I hope this is true because I have always viewed my communication skills (aside from the occasional stammering or loss for words) as one of my greatest strengths. Additionally, I know my tongue was extremely good looking.

Right now, I am in a hampered state of communication with a tongue that is too ugly to be seen in daylight. Having even the most casual conversations are proving awkward.

At the CW Post mini market in the Humanities building, I asked the lady for 2 items: a peach yogurt and bottled water (the only things I can manage to choke down at this point). She then mouthed the words in an over exaggerated manner: "That will be two sixty five." I pulled out a $10 and $5 bill and was contemplating if I wanted to give her the five or instead, split the ten to make some more change so I could have extra singles. She then touched my hand holding the $5 and mouthed again: "This one." Not only did this nice, kind lady think I was deaf, but stupid as well. She was not going to gyp a stupid, deaf girl. Ahhh Humanities, I knew there was something else that I liked about this building.

As Midazolam Takes Me Under

2007-09-29T09:14:00.001-04:00

As I lay there looking up at her, she asked me, "So, what is your favorite drink?" I could not find any words but thought: "Would she really bring me one if I told her?" I laughed a little bit. She then said to me "Too many to pick just one, huh?" Then when I found the words, I could not speak them. I wanted to say "What's happening? Did you do this to me?" I tried to get up but could only lift my leg and head. I fell back down. I laughed some more. Then I heard another voice say, "That's too quick." I closed my eyes and the girl standing beside me said. "Yes, but Versed is good."

No More Bug Crushing

2007-09-22T22:51:00.000-04:00

I am going to make great efforts to stop this bug crushing roll that I have been on. It is not out of violence or hatred that I have been killing these little Gregors, it is out of desperation; they are keeping me up at night. Joe would have called them "spider crickets". But he was an asshole, so I will tell you that they are just hideous black crickets.

Initially I was willing to share my space with an occasional visitor. I even had a discusion with them saying: "Yes, by all means, please stay... but don't make any noise at night; for I am a light sleeper and the softest, most gentle of noises will keep me awake."

Unfortunately, like most bitches they did not listen. They repeated crept into my space and chirped their happy fucking song all night long. When I could not take it any longer, I got up and turned on the lights to hunt them down.

At first, I was grabbing them in a paper towel and tossing them out the door back into the world from which they came. But after many nightly hunts, I grew weary of their charade and made my first kill. I felt his legs, back, wings or whatever crack in the paper towel as I put the smack down on him.

The joy that I felt knowing that I would not hear his annoying little song was inexplicable. As I lay back down in my bed, I thought to myself: I am so happy he is dead now. My next thought was: gee, that is the creepiest thought I have ever had.

For the past few nights, I have continued with the killings, but my conscience has grown very heavy. I am sure that if I were a good Christian, I would be going to hell now. So tonight, I have pledged to stop the bug crushing. I have freed the first cricket of the evening. I told him: "Please don't come back. Tell your friends to stay away too."

I hope they listen.

The VB "If... Then...Else...End If" Statement

2007-09-20T20:08:00.000-04:00

Option Explicit
'This program takes the input from two text boxes, compares them
'then tells you which is the larger number.

'program kicks off on the click of this button
Private Sub cmdFindLarger_Click()

'declare some variables
Dim valueX As Integer
Dim valueY As Integer
Dim result As Integer

'set your variables with the input from the text boxes
valueX = Val(txtValueX)
valueY = Val(txtValueY)

'here is where the magic happens
___If valueX > valueY Then
_____result = valueX
___Else
_____result = valueY
___End If

'take the variable called result, convert it to a string,
'cancatenates it with the words "is the larger number."
'then show it in a lable box called lblResult
lblResult = Str(result) & " is the larger number."

'game over
End Sub

Lisasmith's Lament: An Obsession with Regret

2007-09-19T22:31:00.000-04:00

My bulleted list of mournful regrets:

Pathless wandering: don't know where I want to be
Constant Indecision: don't know what I should be doing
Daydream Addiction: always creating scenarios; head in the clouds; never in the present moment
Compulsive Thinking: shoulda, coulda, woulda... didn't
Failure to communicate effectively: uh, uh, uhhhhhhhhhh

Green Against Blue

2007-09-18T10:21:00.000-04:00

I tried to drain my head and leave it empty of all thought. But I could not silence the voices, so I tossed and turned last night thinking of the past and future. Then it was morning and the urge to sleep finally came to me; I had to get up. I was still plagued by the compulsive thinking. I showered and dressed then I got in my car to begin the drive. Somehow while driving, I noticed how the treetops reached up and met the sky; green against blue. Then from the tops of the trees, as they moved in the wind, the leaves came to life and spoke to me:

"There is nothing but this moment. When you think of her, take a deep conscious breath. This will bring you to the present and free you from suffering. This moment is real. Past and future do not exist."

Bricks and Stones

2007-09-17T21:55:00.000-04:00

This path is so unbearably lonely that it leaves me washed in complete hopelessness. I do not have the tools with which to dig myself out from underneath this dreadful rubble. I would long for the days of youth if they too had not been savaged by ego and suffering.

Oh to be nothing once again sounds like the most wonderful solution; a lovely escape from all this illusionary something. I am drowning in all the "I"s of my ego today. They pull me under like bricks and stones.

Men and Boys

2007-09-17T20:03:00.000-04:00

What I learned in class today:

The difference between men and boys is that men will ask you to sleep with them; boys will only dream about it.

P.S.
Same goes for women and girls.