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10:13pm 07/05/2003
  he arrived at the doorstep of his childhood around 3 in the morning, no one was home. he decided to try his key, his parents would never have changed the locks. they hadn't and he walked into the house, then headed straight for his bed. he woke up the next day around noon, expecting to see his mother and sister in the room. they were nowhere to be found. he waited in the house for almost an hour before hearing a car in the driveway, he walked outside, his sister and mother were just returning from a shopping trip.
janet had to get ready for work, so ryan tried to not bother her, but he wanted to know everything. his mother was very tired, she fell asleep only moments after they arrived. when janet left she was already ten minutes late for work, and it had been an hour since she'd gotten home.
soon after this time glory woke up, glory wasn't her real name, but it was the only name anyone knew her by. she had never responded to anything else. when ryan and janet were kids, they shouted names and hoped their mother would look, she never did. they swore that not even their father knew her true name. it was some form of treason in their family to be mad that they didn't know their mother's real name. the kids' game couldn't be played when their father was sober, he would get angry, he felt that his children didn't need to know their mother's name.
ryan rose from his seat when he heard his mother walking out of her bedroom, he quickly got her a glass of water, and her medication. she wasn't old, or senile by any means, she didn't have arthritis, or any other disease associated with the geriatric. rather, she suffered from chronic headaches, her days were numbered, they had been for many years.
 
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06:20pm 26/03/2003
  the_new_wave is trying to re-spark his writing habits. Soon, the_new_wave will re-open this place, with a story that has taken too long to write, and is too short. Keeps your heads up.  
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watched the light shine down on the broken glass   
10:38pm 17/02/2003
 
mood: awake
the_new_wave is going to make a new journal. not sure what though. *ponders*


here i am: split_infinity
 
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i think i just caved in, and i don't feel nothin'.   
06:36pm 15/02/2003
  now that the_new_wave thinks about it, valentines day didnt suck.

the_new_wave got a bear that said hug, what could be better (a lot of things).

today was okay, the_new_wave won $1.75 of minh's money, playing "MTG"


now to the_new_wave's story (with names and such):

david's cold hands breezed over janet's face while they sat and stared at the vintage black and white television set he loved so much. his eyes glew with the images of a movie that she'd never want to watch. the rain pounded down on the roof of his two-story house. she looked into his eyes, and just stared at the beauty of the person within. he leaned in for the kiss, only to see her staring up into his eyes as if her life had already ended. his mother walked in and she got up faster than the speed of sound. his mother only came in to ask them if they wanted anything to eat, and if janet was spending the night. she did.
they were both pure when the sun rose. again, his mother asked if they wanted anything to eat. "i do, ms. chan" she replied, in the tone that all vibrant young girls should speak. she walked out with his mother and together they started to make chocolate chip pancakes.
"mom, i want some, too" the innocent teenage boy whined
"you think i like these hunny, they're all for you two." she responded in a nice motherly tone.
"what would you like, mom?" he asked, trying to be a gentlemen.
"i've got all i need right here in this shake, besides, you don't want cold pancakes do you?" she said in a happy tone.
the couple left the house after eating, and drove to his grandmother's in his 13 year old, vintage mercedes.
the boy was a huge fan of vintage items, his room was decorated with vintage lamps, vintage dressers, and even a vintage-looking lava lamp. he loved the way his "best girl", as he prefered her to be called, dressed in clothes taken straight from the 50's. it was almost as though he were born forty-five years too late.
they arrived at his grandmother's house and he stepped out to open the door for her. she waited quietly and thought about how he was mad the time she didn't let him open her door. she stumbled out of the door jokingly, as she always did. they walked into his grandmother's house and sat on the couch to watch movies. his grandmother woke up half way through their second movie.
the movie wasn't important, it's not usually important. the movie was always just a background noise to their long talks. they believed that people who do not get along in terms of friendship do not belong in relationship. they were the best of friends.

when janet woke up all she could think about was her little brother, ryan, who ran away three years prior. he was yelling at their father, he had just told their father something about his life. the only thing she knew her brother said was "she loves me." she had just assumed her brother was talking about their step mother.
her theory was disproven that evening when she recieved a call from her brother in seatle. he had just gotten married, he told her about how it wasn't legal, but it meant the same to them. he told her all he could before he had to leave. he was going to
New York, where he and his boyfriend were going to live. She was surprised to hear her brother say boyfriend, she had always thought of him as the straightest of the straight.
janet walked in to the next room to deliver the good news to her widowed mother. she began to cry with joy. her son was alive and he was living his dream.
"where is he going to live in New York?"
"he didn't say"
"is he going to tell us?"
"he didn't say"
"does he know his dad died?"
"he didn't say, mom"
"is he going to call back?"
"in two weeks, when he gets settled"
with that they sat down, relaxed and patient, to watch television. there was nothing on t.v. worth watching, so they went in the other room to play chess. chess was the only game janet and her mother could play together without some form of arguing. it was a very important game to them, unlike monopoly and payday, chess involved no trading. janet or her mother always seemed to mess up in a trade, or agree to something they did not mean to; in most cases the board ended up on the floor. janet and her mother stopped playing the games they argued in after janet's father died. the thought of arguing with her mother after her father had died was unbearable to janet. she wanted everything to be perfect with her mother. janet had always believed that her mother was a very fragile person, she didn't want to upset her.

ryan was not the type of person to forget something as simple as a phone call. somehow he had forgotten to call his sister and mother back, he needed to make it up to them. he decided that he would take a trip home, to visit the family. he wasn't sure as to what had happened to their father.
his sister did not mention their father to him, he found that odd. he was not sure if their father had died, or his sister didn't want to talk to him about their father. it was still a 'touchie' issue, he thought.

the_new_wave might trash this, if it doesn't go anywhere.
 
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01:46pm 27/01/2003
 
mood: "I'm so depressed"
the_new_wave lists the top 3 bands it has come up with as depressing:

3. Thursday
2. Radiohead
1. Bright Eyes

the_new_wave would like to know who thinks this is right. the_new_wave would also like to know if other people know more depressing bands than these.
 
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past tense   
07:13pm 17/01/2003
 
mood: awake
his cold hands breezed over her face while they sat and stared at a vintage black and white television set he loved so much. his eyes glew with the images of a movie that she'd never want to watch. the rain pounded down on the roof of his two-story house. she looked into his eyes, and just stared at the beauty of the person within. he leaned in for the kiss, only to see her staring up into his eyes as if her life had already ended. his mother walked in and his best girl got up faster than than the speed of sound. his mother only came in to ask them if they wanted anything to eat, and if his best girl was spending the night. she did.
they were both pure when the sun rose. again, his mother asked if they wanted anything to eat. "i do, ms. chan" she replied, in the tone that all vibrant young girls should speak. she walked out with his mother and together they started to make chocolate chip pancakes.
"mom, i want some, too" the innocent teenage boy whined
"you think i like these hunny, they're all for you two." she responded in a nice motherly tone.
"what would you like, mom?" he asked, trying to be a gentlemen.
"i've got all i need right here in this shake, besides, you don't want cold pancakes do you?" she laughingly said.
the couple left the house and drove to his grandmother's in his vintage mercedes.
the boy was a huge fan of vintage items, his room was decorated with vintage lamps, vintage dressers, and even a vintage-looking lava lamp. he loved the way his "best girl", as he prefered her to be called, dressed in clothes taken straight from the 50's. it was almost as though he were born forty-five years too late.
they arrived at his grandmother's house and he stepped out to open the door for her. she waited quietly and thought about how he was mad the time she didn't let him open her door. she stumbled out of the door jokingly, as she always did. they walked into his grandmother's house and sat on the couch to watch movies. his grandmother woke up half way through their second movie, "wonder boys."

the_new_wave wants to know if it sounds better in past tense.
 
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05:03pm 17/01/2003
 
mood: ditzy
the_new_wave is writing a story, it starts off like this:

his cold hands breeze over her face while they sit there and stare at the vintage black and white television set he loves so much. his eyes glow with the images of a movie that she'll never watch. the rain pounds down on the roof of his two-story house. she looks into his eyes, and just stares at the beauty of the person within. he leans in for the kiss, only to see her staring up into his eyes as if her life had already ended. his mother walks in and his best girl gets up faster than the speed of light. his mother only came in to ask them if they wanted anything to eat, and if his best girl was spending the night. she does.
they are both pure when the sun rises. again, his mother asks if they want anything to eat. "i do, ms. chan" she replies, in the tone that all vibrant young girls should speak. she walks out with his mother and together they start to make chocolate chip pancakes.
"mom, i want some, too" the innocent teenage boy whines
"you think i like these hunny, they're all for you two." she responds in a nice motherly tone.
"what would you like, mom?" he asks, trying to be a gentlemen.
"i've got all i need right here in this shake, besides, you don't want cold pancakes do you?" she laughingly states.
the couple leaves the house and drive to the boy's grandmother's in his vintage mercedes.
the boy is a huge fan of vintage items, his room is decorated with vintage lamps, vintage dressers, and even a vintage-looking lava lamp. he loves the way his "best girl", as he prefers her to be called, dresses in clothes taken straight from the 50's. it is almost as though he was born forty-five years too late.
they arrive at his grandmother's house and he steps out to open the door for her. she waits quietly and thinks about how he was mad the time she didn't let him open her door. she stumbles out of the door jokingly as she always does. they walk into his grandmother's house and sit on the couch to watch movies. his grandmother wakes up half way through their second movie, "__________."

warning: unauthorized use of this material will result in death by homelessness ("get it?" "got it!" "good.")

the_new_wave just wanted to write "get it got it good" cause it sounds hip to the beat.
 
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we're dead!   
06:35pm 12/01/2003
 
mood: hyper
the world was coming to an end when the best of the best had come to them. he told them he could save their lives, all he needed was a time, a place. when the world would end was all he asked. he just needed to stay to save this race. the world is coming to an end today at 3:15, and to no dismay, it did. the people were never saved, but they were taken away. the old man with all his wisdom had broughten them to a place, far off from the world. in this place the sun was swirled, they called it hell. and every morning he rung the bell, to wake them up with time enough to save themselves. 3:15 is coming to an end and all we know is that we're dead!

- the_new_wave

read it really fast or it sounds stupid (that is if it doesn't sound stupid as is).

extra: the_new_wave needs to make some sort of website, cause it has time now.

[ maybe the_new_wave's website can be emo ]
 
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government   
06:41pm 06/01/2003
 
mood: curious
the_new_wave wants to know who can tell me what all these people are:

trent lott
martha stewart
george bush
bill clinton
hilary clinton
bill simon (if you're a californian)
rob lowe
eminem
james carter jr.
franklin pierce
franky roosevelt
ted kennedy

and don't comment with who they are, e-mail me:
theory_of_one@hotmail.com
 
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children   
11:55pm 03/01/2003
 
mood: amused
the_new_wave will never have kids.

BUT: these are the names he likes:

Robert
Aiden
Jonathan

Samantha
Lydia
Queara (like key-are-uh)

That's how they would be spelled, too.
 
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they already are.   
01:20am 29/12/2002
 
mood: blah
open up your eyes, [see what's past the outside]
speak through your lips, [I want deeply to be your first kiss]
tell me what you need, [you cannot live through one planted seed]

relive the glory moments one by one, [not through your only son]
teach them all what they want, [education is an object of taunt]
breathe the beauty of your soul, [the one the third man stole]

(the_new_wave speaks: new thing, but they kind of go together)

'dead, you are, through one mistake. wrong place wrong time, the one they break. an accident was all it was, deprived of the one she loved. 2am and only one place to go, the place where lies the only one she was to ever really know.'

'it all went wrong, the safety was on. we meant to scare him, we shot toward the sun. the bullet fell, now rings the bell. do angels get their wings, or is it for the time a human can no longer sing.'

2 sides to every story, the truth being the third. we all make mistakes, they would do it again. take their lives away, or reabilitate. tell me you see into their souls. ten years pass, and then they are caught. take them away, or realize the thought: "of overcoming your past, a life is something that cannot be brought back."

my eyes are already open.

(the_new_wave says: it has a few "messages" but I think it sounds like some cheap anti-gang ad. [the original idea was to show a mistaken murder]).
 
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explanation.   
01:29am 28/12/2002
 
mood: energetic
the_new_wave isn't sure exactly what the people may have thought about its last entry,
explanation:

the_new_wave knows that some people dislike it, but why do these people keep it from him? the_new_wave could care less about what the people think, but the_new_wave would just like to know, because when people think you are who you aren't, they react differently to you.

the_new_wave has a strong form of hatred for people who are ignorant, about things, about what it does, and about who it is. the_new_wave is not exactly sure how to explain itself, the ignorance drives it mad.

the_new_wave dislikes rap "artists" and it also dislikes the hip-hop era that seems to be taking over, now. the_new_wave honestly hates when people become famous and they do not even write their own lyrics. [note: the_new_wave thinks rappers who don't know how to write, should be banned from all television].

the_new_wave gets sad, too. not often, not often at all, but some nights when its with the right people, at the right place, and at the right time, something goes wrong and it just kind of floats off. the_new_wave isn't sad now, but it will be again, sometime.

"when it comes, it comes on strong"
 
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including you.   
05:57pm 27/12/2002
 
mood: annoyed
the_new_wave wants to know three things about people, inclding it's friends.

the_new_wave wants to know what people are saying about him.

the_new wave wants to know why people are as ignorant as they are.

the_new_wave wants to know how people are successful and talentless at the same time.


the_new_wave is ending this entry before it sounds stupid-er.
 
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Wishes from the_new_wave   
11:57pm 24/12/2002
 
mood: anxious
the_new_wave realizes that this year it really doesn't feel like christmas.
the_new_wave would still like to wish you all a:
Merry Christmas

the_new_wave also knows that this entry is way out of the ordinary for this journal.
 
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the way they kissed   
12:14am 24/12/2002
 
mood: I'm in a writing mood.
the_new_wave wrote:

History repeated itself that night
The day they murdered unseen light
/When they first met that day \
\The sun was up and the sky was grey/
He feels remorse through her betrayal
A day of peace in heartless jail
/When they fisrt kissed that night \
\The sun was down, and the moon was bright/
She hurts inside, no hope to even try
The holocaust in her eyes, the day he died
/when they first had to part \
\The sun was only in her heart/
He broke alone the day he came in too late
A great way to end the first date
/When they first broke-up \
\The sun was only in his cup/
They felt together, lovers through and through
The only fault was they hadn't said "I love you"
/When she first said "I love you" \
\Their card games were gone, he was too/
The day he died
The way she cried
/When he first killed himself \
\Their time was up, his cards weren't dealt./
 
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Questions of doom.   
10:37pm 21/12/2002
 
mood: SOOO EMO
The_new_wave is?

1.Anger
2.Happiness
3.Hatred
4.Annoyance
5.Individuality

Why is the_new_wave angry?

The people of today are arseholes.

Why is the_new_wave happy?

The people of today are hyper.

Why does the_new_wave hate?

The people of today are selfish.

Why is the_new_wave annoying?

The people of today are depressed.

Why is the_new_wave individual?

The people of today are people.

The_new_wave does?

1.sleep
2.eat
3.play
4.talk

Why does the_new_wave sleep?

have to.

Why does the_new_wave eat?

have to.

Why does the_new_wave play?

to survive.

Why does the_new_wave talk?

to survive.

The_new_wave wants?

1.Change
2.Direction
3.Money

Why does the_new_wave want change?

The people need it more than I do.

Why does the_new_wave want direction?

He needs it from the people.

Why does the_new_wave want money?

To spend on the people.

The_new_wave feels?

1.smart
2.needed

Why does the_new_wave feel smart?

He has a 3.8, and actually has it.

Why does the_new_wave feel needed?

He has to be the fifth wheel, or third, or seventh.

The_new_wave needs?

1.Love

Why does the_new_wave need love?

We all need love.
 
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The cool things.   
08:02pm 17/12/2002
  Black and White Photography- Hardly ever looks good when you take pictures of people. The only time you have a shot at greatness with it is when you snap a fucking piano.

Safety Pins- Can't be that bad, because Amanda2 wears them. Or can they? yes, they are the cool punk thing, yeah what a trend.

Hardcore Dumbasses- Take the time to fucking patch things onto their jackets, what the hell? who has that little time on their hands? honestly!. Also, these dipeshites say that they don't care what other people think, I'm so sure. That's why you all go to school in the clothes your mommy bought, and NEVER do your hair. Too bad you don't, you spend twenty minutes on your hair and prolly spent a few weeks sowing shit onto all of your clothes. And if it isn't a band-t it shouldn't have been made.

Rap- Oh yeah, I can't write, or sing. I just scream the lyrics someone else wrote like an 8-year-old girl, and you can all relate. Yeah, I love my gold teeth.

The Phrase "Be Quiet"- Never works when I yell it, but when the annoying pieces of shit yell it, everyone stops and listens, god just go fucking fuck yourselves.

But you know what? I don't give a rats arse. Why? just cause, it's the way I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I (I) AM.

But you just HAD TO BE cool.

What about tommorrow?
That's what I thought.
 
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05:00pm 14/12/2002
  'Like Oh My God'  
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