From: owner-eda-thoughts-digest@smoe.org (eda-thoughts-digest) To: eda-thoughts-digest@smoe.org Subject: eda-thoughts-digest V3 #46 Reply-To: eda-thoughts@smoe.org Sender: owner-eda-thoughts-digest@smoe.org Errors-To: owner-eda-thoughts-digest@smoe.org Precedence: bulk eda-thoughts-digest Monday, February 7 2000 Volume 03 : Number 046 * If you ever wish to unsubscribe, send an email to * eda-thoughts-digest-request@smoe.org with ONLY * the word unsubscribe in the body of the email * . * PLEASE :) when you reply to this digest to send a post TO the list, * change the subject to reflect what your post is about. A subject * of Re: eda-thoughts-digest V3 #xxx or the like gives readers no clue * as to what your message is about. Today's Subjects: ----------------- ET: God is Amazing........(kinda long) ["~* cymbaline *~" ] ET: ~inventory--installment three~ [shivergirl ] ET: Critiques, Computer Composition, a whole lotta Caring from me [DPS831] ET: pewter comps and kewl allegorical alliteration ;) [shivergirl Subject: ET: God is Amazing........(kinda long) Hi everyone... I'd like to share a story with you all. God is amazing, and I have tonight to prove it. I just got off work 20 minutes ago at 11:30 pm. I went out to my car, started it up, and since its cold outside, I had to let it warm up, so it doesn't stall. So as I was waiting for it to warm up, I'm outside my car, smoking my last cigarette for the night, and I notice ALOT of white smoke coming out of my exhaust pipes. I didn't think much of it, so I finished my ciggie, got into my car, and pulled out of the parking space. My car is moving rather slowly right now. I take a spin around the parking lot to get my car up and running, and then I pull onto the road. I live about 3 miles from work. So I'm driving home, at normal speed. Everything's absoluelt fine, except the squeaking noise my car is making (I think its the belt), but its BEEN making that noise when its cold, and only when its cold. So again... I thought nothing of it. Now I come to my road, I turn onto it. Just then, my radio starts shorting out. The radio stops playing, and it's light just keeps flickering, then dies. My headlights are on bright, and as I turn into my driveway, I realize my "brights" are rather dim. I pull into my driveway (and I can hardly do it at this point for some reason) put my car in park. The engine DIES!!!!!!!! It won't start now, not even attempt to start when I turn the key. I turn the key: Nothing!!! Wow... if this happened when I was on the road, I would have been in an accident or something. I had angels on my car, and God made sure I got home safe. This happened before too... My power steering fell out when I was in a parking lot... right before I was about to hit the main road! That would have been major... not being able to steer, and either going straight into traffic, or getting hit. God works in the most amazing ways Have a nice night, Peace, Kelly ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com ------------------------------ Date: 5 Feb 00 22:50:56 CST From: Naomi Vaughn Subject: ET: laughing in all the wrong places hello angels :) solitude is as two-sided as anything. i'm essentially alone again tonight... and with heather playing, i'm simply blissful. course, it's different. silent solitude... versus that with noise... and it factors in that lonliness took the night off. ;) anyways, i'm just in a mood tonight :) have a few poems i may post, but seeing how as all my stuff has been mere attempts lately, we'll see. well i thought i was going to talk, but i think i'll wimp out and just be on my way. i hope you all are well and happy. :) lovlies, nai the nevermind angel - --- I think maybe we're too polite, too formal too careful, too respectful I think sometimes we need to cut the crap and try being real for a change - -- falling from the spring like night from daylight. - -- they think they're outcasts, she thinks she's a punk, and everyone's listening... whispers call me a slut, when unknowing back's turn... but none of it's real, they're all just roles, we're all just playing a part, just trying to believe... we all just want to believe it's not that way unless we say so. "If I knew better... I wouldn't change a thing" ~Train, "Swaying" ____________________________________________________________________ Get your own FREE, personal Netscape WebMail account today at http://webmail.netscape.com. ------------------------------ Date: Sun, 6 Feb 2000 01:32:17 -0500 (Eastern Standard Time) From: kara garbe Subject: ET: ~~ hey guys... i just need to talk to someone... so, i don't know, i just need to write for a little bit here. i've been feeling strange lately, trying to find meaning and purpose, trying not to get weighed down by the emptiness around me, inside me. you know how that goes? if you've ever experienced loss, how do you move past it? how can anyone make a difference when everything is so fleeting, when everyone is so oblivious? people as a whole don't like to think. people like to turn away from what depresses and saddens them. and why not--after all, it's all futile anyway, right? how do you move past loss? how can you ever want to have a child when you know that you could lose it so easily, because you've seen it happen before, and it's the biggest thing that's ever shaped your life. and you can't get past death, no matter how much you try. and everything you write ends up being about that, death and loss and how that shapes the people who are left behind. how that destroys the people who are left behind. how do you go on? how? maybe the only reason you go on is because you think something even worse could exist out there beyond this world. maybe this, this difficult life, is the vacation before the hard stuff really starts, the things that you won't be able to live through, the things that are going to destroy you, again and again and again. and all you have to cling to is your own mortality, because nobody else is a sure thing. all you do is keep walking, eyes on your feet because you hope they can keep your mind occupied so you won't fall down. but you still have those moments when the people you love just aren't enough, and you need to do something to try to purge and to reach out, and this is it. ------------------------------ Date: Sun, 06 Feb 2000 14:51:58 -0500 From: shivergirl Subject: ET: ~inventory--installment three~ + someday i want a baby girl called aynsley and a boy called something irish and unheard of. i know they've been waiting so long, just like i've been living and pondering why they picked me and i chose them. but they'll arrive eventually, and i'll pick them up at heaven's airport; leaving it up to them to recognize me first, in case i forget what their faces feel like. but right now i have to be me for a while, to figure out my own particular style of being and seeing life with all its perceptions and purposes. i'm still gettin used to this body thing. and recognizing the eyes in the mirror as hers. they are the same ones as when she was two or three, eating spilled baskin robbin's ice cream, but everything passes, everything changes. she should've remained more the same; but not sane, just intact. and that is why i've had to make a new pact like moses; i need to let go to get in. and i never swim. feminism confuses me, it's so political. i'd like to be a person first. i contributed to a womanist publication, but i'm not sure if lilith fair is female domination or recognition. i'm not an anti-feminist. but i don't love all mean equally, either.. i just wish i knew what they feel. meg ryan and janeane garafolo are my movie ideals. i wish movies were real. and i would like to travel alone, but i believe i already am. all my spirit-friends surround me, but only at night, in the sky. i'm psychotic over sweeties and spuds, even though i'm aware of it; it's still crazy, my awareness just takes it to another level. i'm inherently opposed to clutter, but i don't like compartmentalizing my life all the time, either. i hate feeling like different people. i rarely wear socks or tres fashionable attire, but when insulted, i can cut your heart out with scathing scorpio satire. my parents just think i'm wired. i make tapes for my soul's relaxation, and leave the blinds open late at night. i am in love with babies, female singers, and e-mail letters from men. ------------------------------ Date: Sun, 6 Feb 2000 16:39:33 EST From: DPS8315@aol.com Subject: ET: Critiques, Computer Composition, a whole lotta Caring from me Riiiiight, me too. I haven't been real active in the last....4 days? Something like that, and since I know you're all dying for my critiques, I got on the ball and sorta did it.. Critiqueness Land of Illumination Kara, I'm proud to announce to the listeners that I have followed suit and done a 'computer composition' if any of this sounds familar to any of you, well, I got inspired while critiquing [that happens a lot] and i decided that i'd write..or, type, something while critiquing ... that follows. I finished one notebook [that lasted for like two weeks; all the results are here LesTemps< /A> ] And now i'm on to a new notebook! woohoo! haven't named it yet tho...any suggestions? The second poem of this post is the lonely first-ever member of this newest notebook, let me know what you think :) ______ tired you tell the world goodbye be real to the world and how much it hurts to say, say goodnight, while the sun's still going down, closing in on what's left of eternity and you and the shoulders where you sat your dreams: summers ago resting in your arms, faith laid down next to you inside of you all over you for the rest of your life, what will it be? where will it be? for the rips and shreads and tears that are left of you, are there enough stars to patch your soul back together? enough of everything and your dreams to turn you back to the roads that go- maybe you'll be grown up enough someday, fit-to-form the life you live; hollowed out for the world to hold. _______ Penciled in lifestyle Everything in shades of grey, Pages spotted in the eraser marks You wish you could write Across the chapters of your life: Titles filled with a.little.too.much of your know-it-all attitude and the flippant style you tried to pass of as class; - -for the tie you've had with the people you've known, are you filing your pages? - -is everything there, written in straight lines and legible manuscript, dying for a world-wide audience that cant get enough of you: but were all your arks heavy and dark - -consistent through the tests of your life, will there be anything left of you for them to read? _____ Thank you so very much for your time :) James ------------------------------ Date: Sun, 06 Feb 2000 21:58:17 -0500 From: shivergirl Subject: ET: pewter comps and kewl allegorical alliteration ;) what can we say, jay? we died without your poh-etic presence. ;) so cease the comatose pose, will ya?? ;) such a fab idea this computer composition stuff... glad kritiquing isn't just excruciating... ;) just perpetuates the vicious literary cycle, huh? :) so you name yer notebooks..hmmm...so did sylvia plath..your kewlness just rose a notch. now for the land of dimmer: > ______ > tired you tell the world goodbye interesting title, if a bit long, am reminded of eddie vedder on the live pearl jam album babbling sexily about "the longest-ever title of a pearl jam song..elderly woman behind the counter in a small town.." ;) > > > be real to the world and how much it hurts > to say, say goodnight, nice double meanings, wrapping into next sentencerepeition of say gives it more might > while the sun's still going down, > closing in on what's left of eternity lovely sad > and you > and the shoulders where you sat your dreams: beautiful original > summers ago resting in your arms, > faith laid down next to you > inside of you > all over you great parallelism > for the rest of your life, > what will it be? > > where will it be? > for the rips and shreads and tears that are left of you, ouch. startling imagery, but it works > are there enough stars to patch your soul back together? love patch, and the use of stars always captivates me > enough of everything and your dreams good internal rhyming > to turn you back to the roads that go- where? > maybe you'll be grown up enough someday, > fit-to-form the life you live; interesting fit-to-form; what exactly do you mean by it? > hollowed out for the world to hold. *shiver* > _______ > Penciled in lifestyle ha ha! > Everything in shades of grey, bit cliche (not intending to rhyme here ;) > Pages spotted in the eraser marks this is better, original(mistakes, or perceived mistakes?) > You wish you could write > Across the chapters of your life: > Titles filled with > a.little.too.much you master this punctuation style. :)nice description of the overwhelming, btw > of your know-it-all attitude > and the flippant style you tried to pass of as class; like the rhyming here > > > -for the tie you've had > with the people you've known, > are you filing your pages? don't get the firstneat caustic question > -is everything there, written in straight lines > and legible manuscript, god i hate that(the concept) > dying for a world-wide audience > that cant get enough of you: > but were all your arks > heavy and dark lovely > -consistent through the tests of your life, i like your funny pacing > will there be anything > left of you > for them to read? a bit awkward, need more of a transition, methinks > _____ > > Thank you so very much for your time :) de rien,tara ------------------------------ End of eda-thoughts-digest V3 #46 *********************************