december 10th: 
i promised myself that when i saw snow, id remember what it felt like when i could feel the summer wind on my face.
i promised miself that i would remember the smell of ashfault and the chlorine from the near by community pool. i promised miself that i would never complain of the chills id recieve as i stepped under the shade of that summer house. i'd count my goosebumps and feel the heat of the sun fall upon my cheeks. i squint. i promised miself that the winter would not come soon enough: but when you are waiting, nothing ever comes on time.
the lights are up, the sky darkens before dinner once again...
the air bites your nose and your fingertips are numb.
a good numb.

she'll be home soon to remind you of that summer day.
hang in there.

i cant lie if my life depended on it. i have too much hope in everyone being a good person. i dont like reading material that i have not voluntarily chosen to read. sometimes i take on way too many responsabilities at once and forget that i need time to blink.time limits frustrate me. im a neat freak and things need to be organized or the world will crumble. im stubborn. sometimes i get crazy emotional. ive never been considered cold. ive never truly told someone to fuck off before, it takes too much effort and the idea of enemies doesnt intrigue me.mosh pits are tiring. crowd surfing is adventurous.dont chase me ill scream. i could make the hose in the summer time feel like really cold rain when i hold it up. i like meeting new people everyday. i chew trident citrus gum and im learning how to eat properly with chop sticks all the time. i dont get it when people say 'quarter past' when you ask them the time. they assume you know the hour and it makes me feel dumb. i dont believe in north and south because im not a bird...left and right when giving me directions are fine. i get lost a lot. im learning my way around the city. i dont really like to cook, unless its for someone special. i smile at strangers often. i dont think you need to make your bed every morning. i cant stand on my skateboard sometimes. when i dont know what to do with my hands, i carry around a pen or marker with me. so......i always have a pen/marker on me. i pray at night sometimes but other times i feel selfish because too many of us pray only when we need things. i overthink and question wayy to much. i eat when i want to and at whatever time i wish. fuck dieting. its not until the start of every march that i start the workin out thing. im usually not as disciplined. i used to sleep in a lot. that doesnt happen anymore. i used to wake up anxious and nervous. that doesnt happen anymore either. i want to go to africa and ride a giraffe. loud music turns me on, so does anyone who can sing. the swings at the park are my most favorite thing in the world. slides are way too quick for my liking. i bite my nails all the f'in time. my hand is always touching my lips when im sitting and talking. the showers i take create the thickest amount of steam and i could never breathe. i spend way too much time in the shower. i jump into pool water after about 15 minutes of contemplating the idea. the deep end is the best part. i want to go to australlia. i love rollercoasters after 12 years of being petrified of them. i worry way too much about the stupidest shit ever and things i have no control over like disease and the weather. thunderstorms bother me but i like to splash in puddles when it rains. the one image that frightens me the most is that of a building or an area that has been burnt and the skeleton remains. i dont believe in the vanilla side of the girl guide cookies...but i hate chocolate ice cream. my favorite is vanilla with strawberry topping. i believe that fruit and chocolate should NOT mix, and that mint form of any kind of chocolate is disgusting.i have a mating call. i wear my pants way too low sometimes and when called for, i wear my ties up way too tight. sometimes i dress so preppy it hurts, other times im extremly formal and walk around looking twice my age. i bite the inside of my mouth when im nervous and suck on my lower lip. supposedly i have dimples?i love to poke people and tackle them at the most unexpected times. sometimes i laugh so hard that i have to sit down or i'd pee myself. i like to roll around on the grass outside. i love playing catch. i love hitting tennis balls with aluminum bats cause they go so much farther and all the little kids on my street think im god. i like to cuddle people when theyre sad or hurt. making someone laugh is the one healing method i posess. i love to love someone. when you have my heart, i will give you my everything. i dont think im very greedy and i usually dont ask for much, except someones attention. i think the people in charge of our governments are corrupt, even the "democratic" ones.i love to story tell and use my hands and make sound effects. drawing, music & writing will clense you. i like to play in the dirt and wear my hats backwards. i brush my teeth with the bathroom light off. i want to go to germany. i eat way too many cornflakes and lucky charms. the boston red sox are the most charasmatic and most skilled national baseball team in history. i like to study history. i like debating too. stand up comedy is the shiznat. the news depresses me. i think that the world techtonic plates should move quicker then 1 cm every 350 days....so that japan and canada can be closer neighbours.i love my little sister more then anything in the world.i really dont believe in boyfriends. i jumped from the top step at my old house and banged my head at the bottom resulting in a few stitches. i have a chicken pock scar in between my eyebrows which is small, but noticable. i love the smell of gas and used to sit behind the car and inhale it. my parents wish id cut my hair and dress normally, they dont really like the whole 'original' thing. my family is huge, my grandparents mean the world to me and my 23 cousins are the shit. ive never really delt with a severe sickness in my family until my father was diagnosed with RP 3 years ago. i want to learn everything i can, but lately i refuse to read. i never used to procrastinate until university. i refused to have a cell phone until a year or so ago. i dont like being bothered. i hate being told what to do. sometimes ill be the most patient person in the world. other times...my fuse is short. i dont yell a lot. just lock myself up somewhere. last year was the first year i didnt play baseball in 13 summers of playing. i miss it and love the sport too much to just let it slip. i want children. i want a family. im trying to understand and accept the things i can not change and the "wisdom to know the difference". if i could id paint for the rest of my life if money was not a factor.i switched from an english minor to a visual arts minor without telling my parents because they didnt believe in sending me to school for art. they know now...but theyre not crazy about it. i want people to wow me...to intrigue me. i like to put my hand out the window when i drive and make waves through the wind.
too much information?
next time dont be so nosy.

this is as raw as it gets.

An orange sun setting
to this summer evening of black
and white.
in greens and light.
Everything is a waiting game
in this all, we may
together you and I
prepare to jump

change is threatening to those of us who wield power and those who do not. and because it is threatening, it is electric and alive and powerful and i want to touch it.

why does everyone in this box of a room look like they are about to break down and cry? must we all look fucking miserable as we sit here and wait to sprawl into the millions of tiny directions we'll merge into? lets take this subway for example. most of us here probably enjoy being alone and segregated from the world. how bad would it be to sit here and maybe, not necessarily smile full out,
but not sit with such a devistatng look of hate and despair. smirk a little. no teeth though because then youll look fucking crazy. find a happy medium please and dont scare the children. or this is what i love: when people look away and pretend theyre solving the most intricate mathematical problem known to man. is it such a sin to sit there and..maybe not pretend to bullshit society and make them believe your as smart as you wish to look?

your not thinking anything that imprtant, or creating a cure for the deadliest diseases out there, are you? silence speaks in volumes. why must strangers demand to not say a word to you as you sit next to them? i know that you sir, yes, you right there are thinking something.

we are both here waiting for the same reason and more then likely we probably speak the same language. why not converse with a stranger? if not for that moment, you will never be given the exact similar situation ever, ever again with that same person. i know sir that you are thinking somehting about me right now as im writing this. i glance up and catch that awkward moment of eye contact. lovely. do you like my shoes? cause if you do, id love it if you fucking told me sir, because i love that shirt you have on. does this make you smile? does this make you laugh? why not brighten up his day because he looks fuckin miserable. ive got that same shirt in orange at home....and yes it is for men. laugh, go ahead. i dress like a boy. it works.

your insides are crashing. the moment you have played forever in your mind and crossed your heart with has shattered.
you have been told that it may not exist. the magic that you have been surrounded with, you will never get to experience again. it has been stripped from you, pulled beneath your feet and you tumbled backwards. you were left alone and told to pull yourself up as they dangled thread at your fingertips...promising you, they would not let you fall. the only problem is that you love them. so deeply that it burns a scar within your body. a miracle that was brought to you for seconds. shorter then the pace of messages from taste and sound to heart and mind .refuse to ignore it: the moment where you fell for them can not be forgotten. you've hung there, reaching up...all you want is them. to touch their fingertips and for them to pull you to safety. its cold, dangerous and dark over this empty nowhere...but what starts in chaos may only end in chaos? your not coming back for me. the thought of it shatters me. i am never going to be able to share this gift of existance, with you. the magical gift was conditional and a plan of life was assumed. all i want is to love you, and the thought of maybe never allowing myself to release that, and give what i have to another being...is not only unfair but a lie.
and i refuse to tug away. i refuse to stand astray...
but i refuse to let go..

i love you....
i will only accept the time i fall for you, to be the first time i laid eyes on you....
and this thread will be
the life of me
if it has to.



Copywrite'06: Luisa Pariselli

today doesnt differ from any other.
i replayed your laugh mixed with a dash of your smile in real life. i envisioned you within inches of me. the fact that your real and not this flawless image i have created in my head leaves me in shambles. what id give right now to grab the nook of your neck and run my fingers through your hair and across your lips...
and stare at you for a really, really, really long time.
i want to know how you stir your tea at night..
i want to know how you squeeze your toothpaste in the morning..
how long it takes you to open your eyes after your alarm buzzes...
i want to know what you wear everyday..and what colours draw you in..
i want to know what you crave..
your favorite songs and your favorite time of day..
what or who makes you laugh.
i want to know the smell of your skin and the warmth of your touch...
everything..
teach me.

Living in the Shadows
To Luisa From Britney

Look at her. Just sitting there with confidence written all over. She's probably so lost in her own world, skimming through her thick, black notepad that she's lost all contact with the real world. Everytime she writes, reads, or jots something down it brings me back to that one time, a miracle in my eyes. She was strutting along to American History with her guitar strapped to her back and her textbooks in hand, a piece of paper slipped through her binder. At the time all my mind was telling me to do was to run up to her and save the day, hand that piece of paper back to her and introduce myself. That all withered away when I came within three feet of her beautiful existence. My body froze and left me short of breath, I could barely maintain composure long enough to scurry away. I waited a few minutes until she was nowhere to be seen, and that's when I cautiously opened up the crinkled piece of her life. Turns out she's a writer. I didn't even bother starting at the beginning; my locked eyes were focused on the last few lines:

Pray with me tonight
this broken window has shattered;
the night-light has cut into me
to an empty heart, Amen.

This doesn't make any sense to me, how could she be feeling any pain? There's no pain in a perfect smile, in a contagious laugh, in passionate eyes. How she can take each step with such certainty, unconsciously knowing that she's attracting people from all angles. Her maturity allows her to be wise beyond her years, but her childish side allows for her to find pleasure in the simplest things. She walks out of class and this time I'm more intrigued then threatened by her company. "Are you alright?" She looks at me, astounded with that 'how'd you know' look. She forces an answer and moves on. For as much as I can understand this girl'll never acknowledge me. However, I'll be privileged enough to be given a glimpse into the mind and truth of what's written in the interior.