SO the Ciindy is currently    working on a painting of swans, hopefully it will  turn out spectacular, but if not the ciindy shall still be all yay  cuz she did it.  SO  far it kicks ass the swans  look  beautiful and the skys   gorgeous.    Todays rant will be about painting, its like  magic sometimes. Sometimes u just pick up the brush and   just  go with it and  its like wow is it really my hand doing that? U create something outta  just a bunch of colors ;).  Or maybe I'm nuts, but someone in on e of my art classes had it right, she once said    don't make it what u want it to be , go with what the clay  wants to be it and u  deeper knowledge know what its ment to do.  Sure she was probally stoned when she said it, but it makes sense.  I've been in painting mood, cuz inspired (thanks to john, my swan ).    
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What makes a great artist? the abbility to draw and copy  something and make it  look exactly  like what  u drew it from, or the ability to take  something and  express a  strong deep emotion through it? or maybe somewhere in between a good artist can take like a face and paint it giving it an emotion a deeper depth to it.   No i'm not crazy.  I dunno something to think about.  Oh  heres another question, u take tolietes  put them upside down and stick a sticker on it , is that  art or not?  hmm  interesting. What is the line that defines something  from art and  not art? It's all a matter of opinion eh?

Hehehe right now my favorite animal is the swan. For thoose of you in the loop you know why.  They are beautiful.  They have wings,  they really are grand.  But unlike the fly  they are a very  poetic animal. White the color of purity, love,virginity, all that is holly in this world.  And they have  beautiful wings.  They heads  are magnificant.  Makes you wonder are swans so poetic cuz of their outter beauty or their inner beauty. A swan will mate for life, when a swan losses her mate she will never mate again.  Man I think thats like awwwwwwwe beautiful.  

In the story the ugly duckling, he wasnt really ugly, he was really a swan.  You know what? I'm the ugly duckiling in a sense , well just like him.   I've  spent all my life thinking I am ugly (inside, its a metaphore , duh) because I was different , just like the ugly duckiling, ahh  but see now the ugly duckling wasnt ugly he just was trying to be something he was not , a duck.  Everyone laughed and called him ugly. But the joke was on them cuz he was really a swan. He turned into a beautiful swan. WHen he embraced who he was he realized he was more beautiful then any duck.

 Umm yeah  I dunno if I make sense or not cuz I ciindy so bleh. but yeah. Swans, I could go on for hours!

 Ok to be a fly, u could fly if ur a fly. WHy is it that flys can fly like birds but they arent poetic? Is it cause they arent as graceful?   but maybe they are. Could it be they are seen as vial and gross? But are they? maybe its cuz thier too small too see? Perhaphs its cuz  the first poetics failed to notices their  small  sharpe  beauty. Maybe it's cuz their lifes are too short to  fly and see the world? tOO short to be truly free. But maybe there is freedom in there shortness of their lifes. Maybe thats a poetic justice all on its own.  I shall write a poem about a fly in all its glory, and it shall be poetic and beautiful in its words, its  essesence its very bein.  For a fly is so small so insignificant, but its there. I wonder if it feels its insignificance? or if it feel  important as we do?  I guess they probally do. Probally feel a sense of pride in being in living.  I dunno who knows.

The little girl trapped inside me is scared, the world is hurting her, she is afraid, she looks around, but is alone, in a crowd. She sees the action, but they r not her, mearly her body, her older self, stuffing her back down, pushing forward , pretending to laugh.  But  the little girls crying she's afraid, of what she'll do,  she's afraid of failing again, can she take it?  Or will she wither up into nothing and die?  They say that people can't hurt u emotionally unless u let them, but u still end up hurt. The need for love is a basic human need, the girl inside screams to be love to be chearished. Her older self knows better, it knows that  she will only get hurt that  people will never love her, it knows the thruth of the world, not the ideal. Her older self knows that yes they are being nice, but she will never matter to them, that that is her nature.  Sometimes though, ok maybe a lot that little girl takes charge and lets herself believe she is liked, she is special,  she wants to be cared about. The little girl will never die, shes trapped inside me, and we're both afraid of the world!

 Rodents, come on everyone likes them.... or hates them, you know whatever.  What I'm talking about is the fork, now people should be more like forks.  Forks are useful, straight to the point, they pick things up early, now forks there great, forks don't ignore, just stop talkin to you. Now forks  I strive to be more like a fork. The spoon on the other hand, it distorts things, messes with things, does not betray things as they are. Spoons are not very clear in what they reflect.   Now butter knifes their better the stake or paring knifes. Butter knifes arent quite as sharp as the other knifes, they can't really hurt anyone,  if they stab you in the back it wont tottally  hurt. Now on the other hand stake knifes there sharp and   can hurt, they can't be trusted, in a second they can hurt you with there sharpe teeth, never turn your back to them, for they can  stab you deep!

My grad..... oh boy don't get me started on that....   Lets just say they changed my grad from something I was looking forward to, dwamn I already bought my dress now I gotta go awwwwe.  I don't think us grade 12's get like hardly any say in it... AND it's our grad!!!!!! We didnt even get to choose or vote on our  guest speaker, bastard school, PLUS our school has to pay our guest speaker to speak, what a bunch of BS!!!!!


So the  tv, everyonew likes that yeeehaw!!! NE who this is ciindy signing off,  may the cheese be with you, may thy tuna bless thou soul!
Later days!

From the begining of all comprehendable time, came the sun rise and the sun set, one to bring the day , harolding a new  day a new rotation of the  earth, the sunset, calling  the sun away,  welcoming the dark.   Yah I know it's not very joyous but it's a thought.  With dark come  cover secerets, in the dark u can hide things,  IN darkness comes comfort.  In the dark secerets also are  revealed,  the darkness is safe, and  your words echoing to the dark night can't be matched to u , if no one can see who screams! Night is a completely different world then light, anyone else wonder about this strangeness?  How come the lack of light , changes everything?   well short but sweet. Later dayz.

I look in the mirror and see me, but   it doesn't seem like me, it's like I'm lookin at some foriegn person , not me,.  That like most of my life, it's like it's not real, I feel sort of like I'm  just lookin in on it, watching me I move I speak but  it's like it's not real it's not really me , you know? I guess that part of why feel no conection to anything in my life, it doesnt feel real.

I feel like theres more I need to do, that theres something I'm supose to do but I can't figure it out, I'm all restless and all.  I see my friends but I feel like I really don't belong... any where, that feeling follows me around my whole life, it's  like I'm  just this person lookin in on a secert which I don't get but everyone else knows, or I dunno how to describey it. 

And   you know I think my hearts dead, well the part that can care, it doesn't seem to feel anymore, besides   anger, jealousy, like I'm being mocked, and lonelinesslove or compasion for anyone, I never feel attached to anyone. I du. But I don't fell no I guess part of me  wants , needs to be loved, needs someone to think I am the greatest ever and to love me and no one else, someone to love me for who I am, not for  what they want me to be or think I am, not cuz  they have a chance with me or for pitty. It's like I guess I want a fairy tale love, someone who  loves me  from the start, who looks at me and is awed and then   gets to know me and loves me for all that I am, you know?  

Alas never gonna happen, I'm nobody special, u know?  It's heres this world with everyone and their unique skills and heres me, good at nothing, but avarage at most,  everyone has a thing their good at eh? WELL I think I was jiped, cuz here I am a failure, not the looks not the personality, not even the talent. 

I guess when I look in that mirror what I'm really iexpecting to see s that lost little girl, all alone with no one to love looking out at the world afraid, the one that I feel like inside. I dunno, and I'm scare, but not of anything rational like bugs, or snakes, the dark or guns or such, I'm afraid of ending up alone by myself,  with no who loves me, no one to love. which is Ironic because I push people in my life away, make them unreal like me.  I don't want to be one of thoose people who die, and theres noone in the world who would mourn me you know?  And yeah I want more I want  to by known by tons of people, have them  mourn my loss,   be sad I'm gone and remeber  my spirit forever , you know what I mean?   well NE who.