“One can be a soldier without dying, and a lover without sighing.” - Sir Edwin Arnold

Confusion is but an impulse, a created instinct of the mind, meant to distribute un-familiar scenarios to the stimulative impulse of the mind. Nothing more.

Or is it?

Is there more to this thought process, this...idea that confusion acts upon the orders of one's own subconscious level of thinking?

More or not...it certainly is confusing.

Dialogue from "Lost in Translation", a film by Soffia Coppola

Charlotte:
I'm stuck. Does it get easier?
Bob:
No, yes, it does.
Charlotte:
Yeah? But look at you.
Bob:
Thanks. It does. The more you know who you are...you don't care about things the same way...
Charlotte:
But I just don't know what I'm supposed to be. I thought maybe I wanted to be a writer...but I hate what I write, and I tried taking pictures, but John's so good at that, and mine are so mediocre...and every girls goes through a photography phase, like horses, you know dumb pictures of your feet...
Bob:
You'll figure it out. Keep writing, I'm not worried about you.
Charlotte:
I'm mean.
Bob:
That's ok.

Friend loss sucks.

fin.

Living life throught the scents fo the ages, love through the time it takes to unscrew the cap on top of your favorite Starbucks beverage concoction. Pre-purposed, ready-made, on-the-spot existence, fresh out of the box, prepared wiht the knowledge that YOU, and YOU alone, would be the one to enjoy it's fascist goodness.

But who's this for? What makes this your's, or anyone elses? A funeral lies in the bottom of the cereal box, ready for you to make the first move. A wedding day is packaged in shrink-wrapped affection, blood-stained martyrs the maids, ready and waiting to wilt at the feet of the righteous, their un-pious selves.

The arrows follow the clouds through the shallow liquid straight to your heart. Knocking on the door ("May I enter your chambers?"), entrance ("Why yes, You may..."), Death ("Thanks for the tea.").

Exeunt. Stage Left.

Forever and never shall We, as an adorned race pre-determined for Faith and Failure, continue on this alleyway ridden with strife and blood-lust. Raw rock shall kill, forever and ever.

Amen.

Wow...I pulled that one out of my ***. Wonderful writing session. I haven't written a poem in God knows how long. That felt good, needless to say.

fin.

"I hate the rain..."

I hate life when, in all of it's mysterious wonder, throws a 'wrench' in all of your pre-disposed ideas and ready-made plans, just for the fun of it. I don't understand how God can make this so ****ing hard, when He himself is the Ultimate, the one who plans all. I don't understand how, if He loves us, He can just stand by and let **** happen to us, just to make our lives miserable. It doesn't make logical sense to me.

"...but here it comes again..."

But, sometimes you have to roll with it. Accept the fact that **** DOES happen, and there is nothing you can do to stop it. That is my version of Chaos Theory. Chaos happens, nothing anyone can do about it, so you have to prepare for the aftermath. It's not the situation that shows who you really are, it's all in how you deal with it. How do you handle a death? How do you accept the consequences of promiscuity or substance abuse? Do you do MORE abuse to yourself because of the situation? Or do you take a step back, and look at it logically.

"I made this happen, and now I must pay the price. I'm not going to have a pity party for myself."

That's how you deal wiht it. As the old cliche' goes, "Roll with the punches."

And that's that.

"...wrote you a goodbye note (you just wrote me off) on your arm when you passed out. bestfriends, exfriends- better off as lovers not the other way around. racing through the city in the back of yellow checkered cars. the takeoffs are the worst but the skin from your shoulder to your ear makes it all worth it. and im sorry the way my moods flicker on and off like old light on your porch, but i know you wouldn't have it any other way. sneaking in your window instead of out. the way you hold a cigarette cause you don't know what to do with your hands when we are sitting this close. the way the waists of pants feel better at the ankles. the way you always were my best excuse for calling in sick on everyone else. i miss you. "

- petey (Fall Out Boy)

HERE IS A BUNCH OF QUOTES FROM RANDOM PLACES FOR YOU GUYS. THERE ARE LINKS LEADING TO THE SOURCES.

"It's time to be the dreamer, instead of the dream."

"Thank you: …and so begins the sincerity with a list of loved ones and helping hands,woven into a meticulous array of niceties, scrolled from end to end, cut down to a cold decking case of lockjaw. A list such as this, I have no desire to compile. The one who created you is the one to whom you owe your life. We tend to forget this. Inspiration is derived from many sources in life: Feelings, memories, family and faith. In order to properly give thanks for what I have become and where my heart is, I would have to give my life. I am forever indebted to the fact that all is created in the image of love."
-Nate Barcalow

And it's a deep sea in which I'm floated;
Still I sink to think that I must crawl;
There's things that aren't worth giving up, I know,
When you can't bare to carry me, I'll fight,
You live the life you're given with the storms outside,
And some days all I do is watch the sky...
Today was a good day. (See that little ad to the side? Click it and support Luekemia fighting!!)

Visit Kill Hannah.
Admire their sexiness.
Wonder at their musical ambiguity.

fin.

"Ender"

Here I am beside myself again.
I'm torn apart by words that you have said.
And all in all,I know we're falling apart.
Where did you run to so far away?
Here we are to sing you a song.
There you are asleep against the window pane, just like always.
You said you like to hear the rain sometimes.
And all I can do is tell you the truth.
And oh, my eyes will tell you the same.
Here we are to sing you a song.
There you are asleep again.
Grasp our hands together, we feel we are one result.
And here we are to sing you a song.
And there you are asleep again...

I have torn myself at the seams; trying failingly, grasping desparately to understand my eunrequited life, my uneffable love. I have writ this poem in the blood of my existence, the blood of the traitor's of Juneau has been smeared across my meaning.

Gehirn drives me, Juneau protects me. And Nerv guides me down the winding path into, and beyond, the darkness of my soul. Something awaits me acros the frozen darkness; my love is the only companion, the one thing I have left to stand upon in this broken city of one.

Soon, it begins.

Soon to be a new breed of existence. Soon to be experience, change, enlightenment.

Soon to be Gehirn von Juneau.

My life graded form 'A' to 'F', as insipired by Purples:

F- I'm losing friends left and right.

D- Work sucks...stuff....

C- People suck...stuff....

B- Time management...getting better....

A- I got HP VI from my friend/ex...go fig...

Close your eyes and just let go,
And find the beauty outside of your front door,
You've been lost in the dark,
Inside your apartment with a broken heart,
Because it hurt too much to let go...
- The Black Maria

Krys and I are friends.

"You couldn't last a lifetime, caught between here and the days of it
Carving her name across your arm,
with every wish its hit or miss her, I told you so
I measured distance in lines, departing the rest of my life
But you had better things to do..."

For someone.
Fin.

Prayer Request:

Pray for Rae-chan. She is not feeling well, so pray for her and her trip back from VA.

Fin.

Big changes:

-) Friend loss (Rae-chan, o Rae-chan...I shall miss thee...)
-) Site changes
-) Sadness
-) Happiness
-) Myspace de-functionality
-) Comcast anger management (****ing software updates that take a whole month)
-) Anime (GSEED/DESTINY, GWing, Cowboy Bebop revival, Old-school weekday Toonami...)
-) French robot 80's pop
-) Lacus Clyne
-) More CO&CA action (burningstarIV)
And many more....

Fin.

I am taking slow steps in the direction of turning The Mezzanine into a full blown site. Ideas are:

-Forum
-Lit. Section
-Mailing List
-Will be a member based service (free)
- Podcasting (future)
-Chat (future)

and more...

Fin.

It's 5:38 am CST, and I am reading Kidou Senshi Gundam W fanfics (http://www.fanfiction.net/l/328/3/0/1/1/0/0/0/1/). I have no life. I hvae not slept. Thank God for days off.

“When you really trust someone, you have to be okay with not understanding some things.” - Real Live Preacher

“We are not the same persons this year as last; nor are those we love. It is a happy chance if we, changing, continue to love a changed person.”- W. Somerset Maugham

“A woman can forgive a man for the harm he does her...but she can never forgive him for the sacrifices he makes on her account.” - W. Somerset Maugham

Fin.

This fragile collaboration of emotion and fate continues ever on and anon. I have added a jukebox to the side so you may peek into the musical habits of a modern day Poe, minus the insanity. Follow the instructions above the box to enjoy what I enjoy:

Pure, unadulteratedly illegal, self-imported foreign music.

If Lacus Clyne were real, I would so date her. Just to let you know (sorry Rei, our relationship has come to an official end...for now. I hope you can forgive me).

Question of the week: If I were a hot dog, would I eat myself?

Fin.

Song: Fields of Hope
Artist: Lacus Clyne
Label: V ictor Entertainment

Konna ni tsumetai tobari no fukaku de
Anata wa hitori de nemutteru

Inori no utagoe sabishii nohara wo
Chiisana hikari ga terashi-teta

Anata no yume wo miteta
Kodomo no youni warattetana
Tsukashiku mada tooku sore wa mirai no yakusoku

Itsuka midori no asa ni itsuka tadoritsukeru to
Fuyugareta kono sora wo shinjiteiru kara
Fields of Hope

Umarete kita hi ni dakishimete kureta
Yasashii ano te wo sagashi-teru

Inori no utagoe hitotsu kiete
Mata hajimaru tayorinaku setsunaku tsudzuku

Itsuka midori no asa e subete no yoru wo koete
Sore wa tada hitori tsutsu mitsukete yuku basho dakara
Ima ga tada kono mune de anata wo atatametai

Natsukashiku mada tooi yasuragi no tame ni
Fields of Hope

Natsukashiku mada tooi yakusoku no nohara
Fields of Hope (3x)

[trans.]

There was a time that the pieces fit, but I watched them fall away;
Mildewed and smoldering, strangled by our coveting;
I've done the the math enough to know the dangers of a second guessing;
Doomed to crumble unless we grow, and strengthen our communication.