there will come a time in every "girl's" life

recentemente. sento come una ragazza che non sa come vivere.

i miss the days of this thing where i would write on and on and on with no point. or there would be a point, i would like to imagine, embedded in all the nonsense spewed from my fingertips. there are some good ones, here is prime example. this is a great medium for saying things i can't readily bring myself to say in person; there's no confrontation or choking up on my part. i guess that also makes me very much a coward and failure in social situations that exert extreme emotional cues or lofty decisions i'm not sure how to express.

indeed.

these days, however, i've been focusing all my efforts of these experiences in paper form where nary a person could ever dream of reading them and knowing what's causing my brain and emotional center (wherever it may be located as i'm not entirely sure i have a heart for those sort of things located anywhere in my body) to go haywire. I'm not used to being unstable as a girl. I've seen it happen to others and it scared the shit out of me. Never could i even fathom to think that something of that caliber could ever cause me the pains and stress that limit my functions, breaking me down into a stupid mess of female in the corner of a room.

i'm not ready for living. i don't need this thrust into girlhood. the expectations are high and unnecessary. does it matter that i'm well on my way to becoming a baby factory? that my purpose, if i even have one besides being president and ceo of a baby factory, will be realized through mediums other than myself? it's all a bit useless to think so...and what of it if i'll be gone soon?

13 things i hate about you

there is pleasure derived from posting on friday the thirteenth. i have a history of doing it over the years on here. it is a day i look forward to.
i guess i mean to say..everything bad that i could never ask for happened yesterday, a preemptive strike on all the good things i had going for me were fucked to the extreme.
anyway. i have to say that in the end it turned out great. I discovered things that made me feel genuinely happy. Like, so motherfucking overjoyed--shit i never thought would be within my grasp.

endless tears and sobbing (oh fuck. i can't believe i admit to heinous emotional outbursts.) morphed into uncontrollable smiling and laughter. i swear shit like that has never happened to me in my life--from shit to salvation. it lifted my spirits so much...made me happy as i've ever been since i realized mr. skip nicholson was the greatest man i've ever met.
but enough about good things.

i have also been obsessed with listening to chuck berry's no particular place to go.



lovely!

roadtrip'd!

so for my near-middle-of-the-week holiday, i journeyed to northern california to visit my first real college i went to after i graduated high school. i could hardly contain my excitement as evident in this picture:

when we finally arrived at the place (hours upon hours later), i was filled with a damning nostalgia of the shit that happened there. the santa cruz scent brought back my early hopefully memories of actually ever loving the place. anyway, here are some pictures.

this was my dorm! or part of/a building near my actual dorm. i couldn't believe i remembered how to walk there from the bookstore. i would've taken a picture closer, but that would have required me to walk further uphill. i'm not too into that.
here are a series of trees and such. i'd forgotten how nice it is to see so many trees, especially everyday when i went to school there for a while. and the air, it is too fresh. i started hacking up black slime as i purged my body with the mountainy atmosphere.

i know you can't really tell from this angle, but this picture was taken from in a mini clearing encircled by tress. i felt as if weird, possibly sexual, pagan rituals were held there. ceremonies held by witches? drug pow-wows? and to prove my point i saw this not far from this tree-circle:

.... what the fuck is this? it's like a reliquary or something...a summoning stick or whatever..i don't know. it looks like crazy and maybe pagan.
back to more pictures! of the boardwalk and pier! but they're not totally amazing..but have a look anyway!

Whilst at santa cruz, i picked up this bum.

well, he looked like a bum, but Mr. Sharky McFly actually turned out to be the coolest shark i've met and i have no shame in admitting that i slept with him.
ok, that doesn't make me a whore because, you know, he bought me dinner first and i found out he's a dj from ibiza and an amateur freestyle rapper and a producer for atl hip-hop records and he went to uni at oxford. Absolutely impressive, how could i not take him with me? He's not going to be with me forever, though. Mr. S. McFly has to get back to work and he wants to kick it with one of my friends...i think they'l be roommates whenever Sharky stops over in l.a.

after the one day thing at the university, we headed over to Monterey. i had no intention of going there, but, much like a pregnant girl and a hanger equals an abortion, it was on the way so we figured what the hell, its inevitable.

i thought these were pretty flowers. there were some that had yellow ones, too.

kayakers to be.

sharky mcfly is a camera whore.

check out these dogs. they look like crawling, furry humans. afghan hounds? is that right?
lastly, here is a video of the drive along the coast. i don't know/can't explain the background noises, if any (i think it's the platters & incoherent talking). ignore them. IGNORE.

i would say this was a fun trip. the worst part was the long ass drive, despite the fact i quite like being cooped up in a vehicle for hours and staring out the window. and as much as it pains my brain to admit this, monterey is a nice looking place. i want to go the aquarium eventually.
we'll see if that happens. and if there are belugas.

Breaks for fasts

i should be all over this educational part of my life where i'm part of the sheep, singing and dancing around to mercy,and enjoying grass. I should be. It's high time I became a sweater worn by the upper echelons of society. Digressing: I was going crazy these past three days. Waiting until I hit up the educationing again.

Onward kids on shoulders

it is the expected time for me to be done with ....things. memories of that all night arcade event have increased their recurring frequencies. laser tag run-ins that make me blush; it was a spectacularly awkward time.

anywhats, i have a transitioning ceremony event of sorts to deal with in a few hours. i am no more excited than i am anxious and nauseous, which is a fair amount considering the stress and depression settling like heavy anchors in the pit of my belly.

ughh.

together this feeling

It's coming close to the end.



i would be lying if i didn't say this was happening too fast.
watch the world burn with me.

Into Future

"The next to last poem is about a young married woman and mother who is plainly having what it refers to here in my old marriage manual as an extramarital love affair. ...she comes into the poem just when that cornet of his is doing something extraordinarily effective, and I see her as a terribly pretty girl, moderately intelligent, immoderately unhappy, and not unlikely living a block or two away from the Metropolitan Museum of Art. She comes home very late one night from a tryst--in my mind, blearly and lipstick smeared--to find a balloon on her bedspread. Someone has simply left it there. The poet doesn't say, but it can't be anything but a large, inflated toy balloon, probably green, like Central Park in spring."