Entries By Christine Oania
Displaying 1 To 30 Of 55 Entries
the inner core of the earth is made of mostly metal alloys, iron in particular. because iron is so dense, it gradually sinks deeper and deeper into the earth creating layers of different rock and metal (in order of density) until hitting the core. normally it would be pure liquid since it’s so goddamn hot in the center of the earth but due to the high amount of pressure the core is actually a solid.
CDO October 9th, 2011.Posted By Christine Oania On 10.09.2011 @ 11:17 am
I had a dream that I could time-travel. I decided that middle school would be the best choice so I could woo my present-day boyfriend sooner and not have to go through all of the inevitable torture that my other boyfriends offered. Anyway my point is, in that dream I had to play football and I was really excited about it until I remembered that (in real life as well) I really sucked in gym class and no one liked me (also in real life). Not even my would-be boyfriend.
January 17th, 2011. 3:47pm.Posted By Christine Oania On 01.17.2011 @ 12:48 pm
willow won’t you wander with me, weep amongst the children of your seed the leaves, they scatter the branches, they stir restless in the wind, they are but fragile reeds willow why won’t you cry for your long lost children?
December 8th, 2010. 12:34pm.Posted By Christine Oania On 12.08.2010 @ 9:38 am
There are these nails on my windows that I look at everyday. I’ve unscrewed them three times, for all nine nails. My father’s screwed them back in for just as many instances. I just want— I don’t know what I want, I’m just writing to write but I don’t know what to say.
December 5th, 2010. 3:35pm.Posted By Christine Oania On 12.04.2010 @ 12:36 pm
I really want a bunny hat for winter. Not a hat made of bunnies though, just one that looks like it. I was about to put a “D:” in there but then I remembered that I’m better than that. “I’m cringing for myself when I cringe for you-u..” And it must be in shades of red or blue.
December 2nd, 2010. 6:36pm.Posted By Christine Oania On 12.02.2010 @ 3:37 pm
Take me somewhere, anywhere that isn’t under this roof. I remember the ambulance, the broken phone, the caterpillar that no one forgot because no one noticed. I wrote and I wrote and I wrote but where was I in the end? Where did I go? My dreams fly me away on their wings, and for a few forgettable moments, I am a ghost in an inconsequential universe.
December 1st, 2010. 4:27pm.Posted By Christine Oania On 12.01.2010 @ 1:28 pm
There was a copper taste in my mouth. Nothing unusual, it’s a flavor I’ve come to enjoy over the years after developing a firm habit biting the insides of my mouth, and my lips. At any given point in time their pinkness would be blotched with shades of red. I’d ask my boyfriends to bite them for me sometimes. Without the redness, or the blood, it just didn’t look like me in the mirror.
November 29th, 2010. 7:30pm.Posted By Christine Oania On 11.29.2010 @ 4:32 pm
I want to close this book because I am afraid and I’ve never read a book that makes me scared to walk out my own room and use a toilet because I’m paranoid that the hand of my ex-boyfriend will reach through and molest me while I pee. But the thing is, I can’t put the book down. It’s four in the morning and I’ve but up since eleven in the morning, and I can’t stop with a hundred pages to go, can I?
November 28th, 2010. 4:12am.Posted By Christine Oania On 11.28.2010 @ 1:12 am
A life without love is a life I would prefer not to live, I’ve realized. I like the little words we share between each comfortable silence when he’s listening to music and I read, and I like it when we’re angry at each other because even though we don’t think we like each other at that moment it reminds us that we are human, and because he is a human and I am a human I can ask from him a little affection between the ice and the fire.
November 27th, 2010. 3:51am.Posted By Christine Oania On 11.27.2010 @ 12:52 am
I logged on earlier today to check the word of the day and upon the discovery of today’s entry I immediately closed my browser. I think there’s a part of me that’s afraid of writing about understanding, for fear of being misunderstood. And there’s another part of me that says that I have no idea what the word even means anymore. And it’s true. That much I know.
November 25th, 2010. 11:23pm.Posted By Christine Oania On 11.25.2010 @ 8:24 pm
There is nothing science can tell me that I don’t already understand. It’s just that I don’t really need an explanation for the fullness of my heart, the bass in its beat, or the tremble in my fingers when they color in his jawline with their nails.
November 19th, 2010. 6:33pm.Posted By Christine Oania On 11.19.2010 @ 3:34 pm
I had a dream last night that I was a princess. Or at least I was going to be a princess because my boyfriend happened to be a prince. We must have fast-forwarded through an Asian drama because I don’t know how my boyfriend got from skater/Kanye-ist to prince but whatever. Anyway the reason why this is all relevant to the word is that my prince/fiance/boyfriend was convicted of the rape and murder of one of the bridesmaids. Which is 100% true but I already had the wedding dress on so I figured I might as well marry the guy. Oh and Aladdin was in love with me.
November 18th, 2010. 3:44pm.Posted By Christine Oania On 11.18.2010 @ 12:44 pm
So strange that you give me this word because I JUST SO HAPPEN TO BE A COWBOY. I know, I don’t look the part but it’s what’s inside that counts, and in this case, my insides are made of ten gallon hats and stallions. Get at me bitch.
November 16th, 2010. 6:40pm.Posted By Christine Oania On 11.16.2010 @ 3:42 pm
Go. The shore is not the place I want to be, but it’s the song I want to listen to the most, the melody I can’t remember. A metamorphosis of sorts, my eyelids forgot how to shut and my mouth has finally learned how to close.
October 26th, 2010. 12:38am.Posted By Christine Oania On 10.25.2010 @ 9:39 pm
I had a dream that I was held hostage. Not really, but I was about to be. I was being abducted, myself and some other person, and I kept trying to punch them but no matter how hard I tried nothing phased them. I felt weak and the blows to this person were in fact hurting me. So I gave up and let him carry me to his lair.
September 23rd, 2010.Posted By Christine Oania On 09.24.2010 @ 1:23 pm
I don’t dislike the color purple.. mauve, sorry. Whatever purple is purple is purple is mauve is so, so purple and there’s nothing like a weird word like mauve to poison the well of purple, our well well full of purple purples. I can’t stop thinking of furbits.
April 29th, 2009.Posted By Christine Oania On 04.29.2009 @ 4:53 pm
you’re gliding through life on pages like birds and butterflies fluttering in the skies and you could care less the toil bubbling from beneath your feet- you skip around it like a pebble in your way. but pebbles are an understatement.
April 3rd, 2009.Posted By Christine Oania On 04.03.2009 @ 4:20 pm
the girl did not deserve to be there she did not sit in plain walls burying her in loneliness and anger no she did not stay there she did not stay there she was just a girl, a girl who did not belong under the weight of emptiness and anger.
April 2nd, 2009.Posted By Christine Oania On 04.02.2009 @ 1:01 pm
do you know what a purse hat is? you wouldn’t would you that’s why they only sell them at target and louis would never look at it let alone buy one. i would burn it and so would he. don’t buy purse hats, i’ll personally send some shit to your door. in a purse hat caught on fire. how you like them apples.
April 1st, 2009.Posted By Christine Oania On 04.01.2009 @ 4:33 pm
level the playing grounds a bit unless you’d like to bend over instead let’s take this face to face, i forget the word but face time is what i want is best is what i best do lest you run away before i get to tell my tale once you spread your little lies like a spider.
March 31st, 2009.Posted By Christine Oania On 03.31.2009 @ 12:22 pm