She walks in beauty, like the night

           Whenever I feel a little down, or unlike myself I like to look back into my journals to see a time where it was quite worse than right now. It must of been for I choose to write something about it. A couple days ago I took the time to read what my professor had written about the work I had done in my journals for class. His hand writing was pretty much illegible and considering I had about 30 journal entries to look at I figured he didnt read most of them. However, at a closer inspection at his note to me, I found that I was wrong. A very pleasant surprise!

        Julia- Your journal offers a wonderful collection of poems, reflections, and short story. I really enjoyed your poems which harbor back to Byron and Shelby(i believe that's what he wrote- illegible script!)You may want to present these to the literary magazine at WCC.
       I hope you continue to write your journal entres: don't stop being an optimist!
                                                                             A+ (motha fucka!)


        I feel like a loser getting such pleasure in recognition from a teacher. Has to do with family issues most like but whatever. I was very touched by what he wrote in the last line, for it indeed means he read all my journal entries. In journal entry #23 I discuss my disapointment in what life has to offer so far, and how dispite all this I try to remain an optimist. Its nice to know that someone actually gives a crap. I wish I had read his note to me before the semester ended so I could tell him how much I appreciated that he actually read my works.

A poem from lord Byron

HE walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that's best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes:

Thus mellow'd to that tender light

Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

 

One shade the more, one ray the less,

Had half impair'd the nameless grace

Which waves in every raven tress,

Or softly lightens o'er her face;

Where thoughts serenely sweet express

How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

 

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,

So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,

The smiles that win, the tints that glow,

But tell of days in goodness spent,

A mind at peace with all below,

A heart whose love is innocent!

One day..

   ..I'm going to be famous. Last night, I drunkenly told my boyfriend and his friends. Not just told them, but explained it in great detail for about 15 minutes. This was the sort of  moment that slips your mind until reminded of it in the morning. Then all of a sudden you hear yourself saying "Oh yeah, ahh. That's embarrassing." Kind of embarrassing, kind of funny.

     I believe it and that's the weird part. I'm not sure if everyone feels this way, but I was born with a sense of destiny. I've talked to my best friends Brittany and Alyssa( together we make the triforce) about it, and they believe as I do, that we three we're meant for big things. The best things in life do come in threes; Three Musketeers, Three blind mice, Threes company too, Trilogies, Threesome, The Triforce of course and The Holy Trinity.

    I asked Brittany what good things came in threes via text message, and she replied "Nipples"
Just goes to show you what kind of people we are.
   
   Anyway back to the point, Great things, right. Similar to Harry Potter. Destined to be the savior of the magical world. That's how I see it, and there's no way around it. Its happening, I don't care how, not really when either. As soon as possible preferably, I need to make the big bucks.

An Optimists Prediction

An autumn rain
Corrupts the day.

Stealing sun and sky
 giving back only grey.

but I've seen the weather report,
and tomorrow wont be so bad.

Still a bit cloudy, and the cold
bitterly sad.

But the sun will shine

Happening at some time around 5
and clear blue skies will follow us into a starry night.

And if hes wrong
(For no weatherman is perfect)

Well,
there's always next time.

Go out and tell somebody!

           To be so bold
              I am told
    Please just let yourself go.

           Be easy, be strange
   Keep that pen on your paper
Stream down in the right direction.

 First take your fists away from your reflection,
        It's not as bad as it seems.
Gotta grip on those strings,

Keep them tight.
Scream!

        Tell us what you know,
"Its been a long time.. a very long time."
        So I have been told.

For the near future

SO

It is time that the poet in me conquers the internet. This may not be pretty, it may be sad. I might rhyme too much, things could be bad. See I'm doing it already. I would make a great rapper, except no one likes small white girls rapping I think.

Bear with me, read my crap. If you want, hell give me your opinions, just try to be gentle! As an artist I am indeed very sensitive.

Here we go.

    Insomnia has brought me to you blog, and I think this might be an interesting relationship. As an inspiring writer of sorts in today's world you would think I would of already had one of these. Technology, however, is not my strong point. More of a quill and papyrus kinda gal.

    So here we are, it is past 4 am and I sit here, on my lab top for the third time this week awake way past my desired bed time. This in turn resulted in many bad scribbled poems about a shitty break up and a couple weird drawings. Mostly though I was cruising the internet looking up random information/ mindless bullshit. Very productive.

    There is another reason I am here. Besides sheer bordem, the sad truth is that every day I feel its harder for me to to write. Call it writers block, or whatever. I just don't know what it is. In all honesty I believe I'm scared of what I write. The page intimadates me. It says something real about me, and I amfraid of what that might be.

   The whole reason I started to write was to share my feelings with something in a way, to put it somewhere tangible. I portray myself as a mostly calm collected person on the outside, void of negative emotions 90% of the time. Somewhere that terrible, terrible other me must come out.

    Until recent events I forgot how rewarding writing was, even if you are never that great, or don't write that best selling novel, you have something for yourself, you have that power. Greedy as I am, I want more than just self power, I want to be recognized as at least decent. Blog = great practice/ fun rambling.

    So here we go, I'm gunna put it out there. Whatever I want to say, and I'm saying it and sharing it! In a desperate attempt at self therapy, and perhaps a chance to become a better writer. I'm going to share with you, yes you.
  
     Readers of the inter web, my views on life, silly writings and ramblings. I'm gunna put myself out there where everyone can see. Even though honestly, I'll probably be too afraid to get any one to follow me for at leaast two weeks. But then, then the world shall know!

   


ps. I'm a writer with bad grammar, a oxymoron. Don't judge!