From: owner-eda-thoughts-digest@smoe.org (eda-thoughts-digest) To: eda-thoughts-digest@smoe.org Subject: eda-thoughts-digest V3 #377 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 Saturday, November 11 2000 Volume 03 : Number 377 * 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: the prayers [shell ] ET: old times [DrkShadws85@aol.com] ET: Route 240 East [Kara Garbe ] ET: Lost angel... ["* kerry *" ] ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Thu, 9 Nov 2000 21:07:07 -0800 (PST) From: shell Subject: ET: the prayers Dear Yall, Thank you so much to those of you who took the time and caring to remember me in your thoughts and prayers. Things have definitely worked out for the better, and I am much happier now. I can't begin to tell yall how much better things are going or how much they've changed in this short amount of time. Thank you soooo much to everyone for their kind thoughts and words. I have definitely learned from the past week, and your kindness is more appreciated than i can tell you. Thanks again angels. COurt _______________________________________________________ Say Bye to Slow Internet! http://www.home.com/xinbox/signup.html ------------------------------ Date: Fri, 10 Nov 2000 16:15:32 EST From: DrkShadws85@aol.com Subject: ET: old times Heh..well lets see Im bored as heck and I found this roject that I did 3 years ago..when I was uhh 12 and heh its funny kinda..some of these are decent, but well some of em are just HA what was I thinking...a few have the same title..thse were all the ones with guidelines and such..argh I hhhaaateee those! - -sadness- sadness is the color grey sadness is as big as the whole universe sadness is every shape it tastes like sand it smells like gasoling if feels like you are all alone it sounds like silence it reminds me of peoples cried sadness makes me feel confused - -sadness- sadness is having fights with friends sadness is not knowing your family sadness is getting a bad haircut sadness is when people die sadness is a sad ending when it should be happy sadness is losing friends sadness is saying good-bye to relatives you just got to know sadness is losing your favorite shirt sadness is getting bad grades in school sadness is not kniwng how to read. - -quatrains- i saw a bug it was under a rug in a big jug i wanted to give it a big hug i planted a seed which was a good deed which my mother agreed but i got bit by a centipede A man who was frensh was sitting on a bench he was holding a wrench but he had a bad stench there was a skunk who was really drunk he went it a bunk the skunk stunk. - -hungry- im hungry not for ice cream not for crackers not for candy but for life, to make friends, and to live and enjoy my life to the fullest ability. - -the bench- i see an old man sitting on the bench i dont know why he is there maybe he is poor and has no home he looks so very sad perhaps someone in his family has passesd away he turns and looks at me all at once there is a smile on that old mans face he asks if I would like to come and sit with him on the bench i sad nect to him and we chatted i now knew what he was sitting on the bench i left the old man to wait for his daughter i turned around and saw the look on that old mans face when he saw his daughter it now seemed as if he was the richest man in the whole world to think it all started on that one l ittle bench. - -diamontes- kdi carefree, silly playing laughing, joking young, juvenile, matured older working, driving, again more understanding, wiser adult ocean clean, majestic sparkling, shimmering, shining water, blue, sandy, dry burning, flaming, schoring hot, sunny desert *shrugs* yah I know crapadoodely, but hey what can I say..I was 12.. :) - -samantha ------------------------------ Date: Fri, 10 Nov 2000 17:38:45 -0500 (Eastern Standard Time) From: Kara Garbe Subject: ET: Route 240 East hey guys, this is something i wrote a couple of days ago, and i would really appreciate feedback--especially suggestions on what's confusing and how to make it better. ~kara Route 240 East It is 10:10 p.m. I am driving down a two lane highway, looking for a place to pull over, questioning my desperation I am wondering if loneliness is simple acknowledgment of the human condition. I am sheets of rain in the wind, atrophied muscle and bone not used to weightlessness, this space this noise to bounce around in. I am running from color blind blue eyes and freckled skin and questing hands and I am flying down the highway I am singing like it could free my soul, like I could shed my skin like the earth is something that can melt away and leave me closer to truth, closer to the molten lava core of life and skin that I have swallowed again and again, like love was something I could store up inside, comfort in my power to hold him if only for the time it takes to roll me over on my stomach and grip the headboard and push something into me like words are truth or sex is love or anything is enough. I am looking for a body to call home besides this one I am trying to outrun on a Wednesday night as I pull into a near-empty parking lot. I am looking for doors that don't close, mouths that don't stay open and fingers that press inside only when invited like the four hour drive to Durham where you pulled me down on the bench in the trees and asked how I make peace with the world around me. It is 10:19 and I am looking for release in this convulsion of words and gasps. I remember him gripping my back, mouth open, moving deep inside like maybe he could reach something that way, maybe my legs opened up to my soul or my eyes and ears and mouth just could not offer enough. I am listening to the low horn rumble of a train I cannot see, thinking it could derail and hit me here and the last thing I'd have seen is the Crozet Great Value Foods Store and a four car train plowing into paint and asphalt and a girl who drove away like memory could lose itself to time, distance, or trains or another town or a cold night or the open window against my cheek, and the last car leaves the parking lot and I am left here alone writing because there is nothing else that can be done. I can see the road that takes me home but retracing my steps will not get me to a better place, just one where a few more pine needles have fallen to the ground and he waits on the couch watching CNN until I come to peel him off, climb over his body and do what women do to men, what people do to each other when we look for things we cannot find, cannot see cannot define and I do not think you let yourself imagine the complexity or extent of my over-analysis. You know I have deluded myself into completion but never completed anything that mattered; the world is too big and I am looking for Buddha in the door-to-door Mormons and the black leather book on my kitchen counter, transcendent crumbs and plastic Jesus nametags you know maybe the sperm had it right after all - (one target we all barrage, and only the fastest one wins) but I can feel you dripping out of me and I do not think I like the feel of life lost to this, to your heavy breath as I squeeze my way onto you but I never knew that skin could feel this good when it lacked solidity beneath. It is 10:32 and you have broken every bone in my soul but you have not touched the last spiral shot sin that is floating over your head and over mine, in the traffic of the floodlights of a Crozet parking lot where I pulled over for release in time to catch the last slow drip of you from my heart, from my mind, from the body that never welcomed you in (except in an attempt to gratify the delusions of a soul that thought for one second it could feel another, like minds had wings like hearts had hands like something could bring us into an ephemeral eclipse and we could rise to meet each other like loss could bind us or two strangers could see past the shoulder blade stubs of feathered flight). But all I remember is the gothic Duke chapel rising in stone, the sharp spires reaching two hundred feet up with fingers-daggers-prongs of a fork to the sky like it was ready to catch the limp loose bodies of wingless angels, those who in mistake thought the soft white plains of heaven were heaven, not gathered water vapor but home, solid, something to cup soft flesh like the receding tide of the womb, the body, the manna I yearn to taste when all I feel is the sharp chapel sparks I am flinging myself toward, falling through air and damp gathered tears to the spire through my belly you could not reach and maybe you are trying but all I feel is the jarring of internal organs, the hot weight of you on my back and the grip of the headboard in a Durham hotel where I know I will wake to pools of you on my thighs. I am already slipping through the soft white of you, the gathered insubstantiality of flesh and liquid that cradles me until my time comes, the moment I choose to be born, to push myself out of you, crying into light and air and the bright streets of Crozet where I tried to outrun my skin but learned to hold it just a bit tighter, to keep it a bit more inside. It is 10:46 and I am going home. ------------------------------ Date: Fri, 10 Nov 2000 17:31:30 MST From: "* kerry *" Subject: ET: Lost angel... Hello all... I know I havent written for quite some time. Life is terrible right now, I find myself wishing death upon myself. I dont know how to handle anything thats going on and I seriously feel like I am losing faith in everything. Faithis the one thing I used to cling to and now I find the only thing I have to cling to is the hope of dying someday soon. I dont know...I dont know what to do anymore...nothing help. I dont know why I am rmabling I am sorry I hope you are all smiling...smile for me to =0) Loves, Kerry The sad angel _________________________________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free E-mail from MSN Hotmail at http://www.hotmail.com. Share information about yourself, create your own public profile at http://profiles.msn.com. ------------------------------ End of eda-thoughts-digest V3 #377 **********************************