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won't you be my neighbor?
the house next door has a For Rent sign in the front yard.
it's been drawing a lot of attention, and it's been interesting to watch the
different sorts of people out there looking for a place to live. it's always
fun to wonder who your new neighbors are gonna be (maybe for me,
that stems from years of growing up on military bases, prime locations
for high turnover on new neighbors ~ is it gonna be my new best friend?
my new boyfriend? are they even gonna have kids my age? what if we
don't like them, do i still have to be nice to them?)
today, i walked outside to quickly dispose of something in the outside
garbage can, and i shout BRRRRR as loud as i can at the world for being
cold to me on my day off. i then turn and scuttle to the trash can on the
other side of our porch, lean over and reach to throw something away,
and i see a fella standing in the next door driveway, checking out the
place and the layout of the backyard, but now looking at me.
i mumble, oh sorry (for being so loud & obnoxious). he smiles quickly
(like, was nothing). then i nod (cool) and turn around, walking back to
my front door, wondering if i should have said something more, like sold
him on the place to live, or if i should have made chit chat with him to
figure out if he would have been a good neighbor or not. and if not, i could
have told him something awful about the landlord or something (of which
i know nothing, actually). so as i'm walking away from this two-second
encounter, i'm thinking all of this. and i'm thinking also if he's wondering
about me at all. like, what a freak, screaming off her front porch, i don't
think this is my kind of neighborhood. or, she's kinda quirky, i think i'll
fit in great around here.
i turn and look back quickly, then shut the door, ready to proceed with
my day of doing nothing. but as i turned around for that last glance, i
thought to myself, i wonder how we appear as neighbors to house hunters,
with stocks on our front porch for the past month...selling point?! or not..?
posted by
reform school jill at 4:11 PM
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wSunday, March 02, 2003 |
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I have been taking this filmmaking class for seven weeks, and it seems almost
more like therapy to me. When working on scripting, we did some freewriting
exercises. I feel comfortable posting this, well, because they are uncensored
and untouched by me after being originally written, allowing my perfectionism
of a final document not get in the way of sharing the thoughts in my head.
The one we did in class was My Body is ______, which was surprisingly positive
for me. At-home assigment was to write on the topic: There are things I don't
want to tell you. Which, of course, was going to be a little more negative in its
subject matter, but I still sort of like what came out, although I had this weird
rhyming thing going on.
We had passed around the My Body writings in class, and picked a line from
another for influence on the second & third round of writing on that topic.
What follows is what was written on Mon Feb 10 in class about My Body,
and the second entry Things I don't want to tell you, was written later that
same week by myself.
posted by
reform school jill at 11:47 PM
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My body is my own. My body is my strength. My body is a vessel for disease.
My body is everchanging. My body is overprotected and underappreciated.
I am no longer ashamed of my body. I no longer flaunt my body, for worldly
goods gained by that method no longer appease me. I have forgiven my body
for being sick and now we are healing. Now we are preventing future ailments.
My body has been neglected and yearns for more interaction. My body is a
child catching up with my old soul. My body is an extension of myself. It is
a glowing orb of joy and love. My body is pumped by my heart who can feel
the strengths and weaknesses of many. My body is aware and can sense my
surroundings. And can dance. And can ride a bike. My body is a work of art.
Nudity is an unnecessary fear. My body feels the spiritual energy of others.
My body likes to have her toenails painted and her legs shaved. My body
would like a firmer ass, but it'll do. My body could use some exercise and
some love. My body will never be taken for granted. My body is at peace now.
At least for awhile. My body will wage war against me some day, and it's a
battle i'm afraid i might lose. But for now, I mustn't proceed with fear of
death and cancer hanging so heavily over my head. My body could hold
the weight of the world. Yet my body is light as a feather. My body is
misunderstood, fully explained, and an enigma. My body is my buddha.
My heart is the center. My brain is the control. Some time, I must learn
to relinquish some control. And go more with the flow of life within my body.
I should listen to where my body takes me, how my body feels. I should eat
when I am hungry, sleep when I am tired, and cry when I am sad. My body
needs laughter. My ears, my smile, my lungs, all need laughter. My body
needs touch and comfort and consolement. My body is all I have.
My body hates perfume. Hates onions. My body is the center of my world.
My body needs yoga. My body needs to be appreciated from the tips of my
toes to my belly button to my fingertips.
---sentence from another's freewriting:
Whose is bigger, whose is smaller
whose looks better, whose wins the game.
---my freewriting influenced from that:
Is it all a competition? As we strive for perfection in this modern-day world
of illusion and backwards. Bigger boobs, smaller waist, prettier face. She
gets the prize. It is not about the prize. It is not about the looks. It is
about confidence, grace, poise, humor, gestures, warmth. It is how you
use your body with hugs and bellowing laughter, with sex and with jumping
off swings. It is how someone else appreciates you personally. Not the media.
The masses are asses. Your body is you. Your body is love. Your body is
beauty and perfection. If we could only truly see the beauty in everyone, we
would realize that it is not a contest. We would realize that to judge others
is to criticize ourselves. What if the world was dark or we were all blind. The
body is about health. The body is about generating new life and sustaining
that life. The body is about stretching and purring and running and jumping
for joy. Hers is bigger, hers is shorter, hers is more round. And we are all
women. We are all human. And we are all perfectly beautiful with all our
imperfections.
---sentence from another's freewriting:
I finally trust this shell, a mold that my soul was poured into.
---my freewriting influenced from that:
I finally trust this shell, a mold that my soul was poured into. My body is
me. This face is mine. This smile. This laughter. It is beautiful. There is
beauty all around you always. If only you could learn to see the flaws and
imperfections not as mistakes but as golden opportunities for individuality.
This body is mine. I can do with it what I want! I can drink myself to death.
I can eat forty vegetables a day. I can jog. I can smoke. And I can suffer
or enjoy the consequences of my actions. My body is a blend of my mother's
neuroses and my grandfather's nose. My body screams Italian-German. My
body desires to be higher off the ground. Perhaps you see more the higher
you are, and my body craves vision. I am very lucky to have my body. Full
of sight. Full of sound. Full of energy and love. My body is no longer a
detriment or a hindrance. My body. My heart. My soul belongs here in this
shell. It all fits. We are one. All 13 personalities and me. This body of Jybil.
I have made many mistakes along the way. And I hope my body forgives me.
Heck my body is me. Still, I need to seek its forgiveness with my actions. My
body is usually right. My body has a seventh sense of its own. My body
travels through time and brings me back souvenirs. My body is a space suit
that maybe I will exchange for another in a later day. My body is this weird
pile of skin keeping in all the blood and bones and organs and thinks it is in
control. My body is where science meets art.
posted by
reform school jill at 11:07 PM
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