brutal

this is the part where i make a huge reveal about how my life has finally changed for the ultimate better and i have a feeling this is the year everything comes up roses. people do that, right? like, "i'm living for me", self-empowering parties? look at that picture (not eating chocolate-covered toffee). that's me in a state of profound contemplation and about to tell you all the exciting news about how fucking amazing i'm doing. hm. actually, no, this isn't anything like that. this is more like "how the fuck did i end up like this"; part analysis, part explanation with an abundance of sidetracks.

this blog is nearing it's seventh year, something i can't begin to fathom and, ok, i'll go ahead and admit it's something i'm proud of (granted, the posts on here are consistently far and in between). when i started this thing i truly had no intention of keeping it up or having my friends or relatives or people close to me know that i had a blog, it was more of thing to express my sadness regarding the separation from the awesome friends i made in japan during the summer of '06. i don't think i'd ever gotten close to people like that ever at the time. they were closer than family. i had the best time with them. many firsts. it was only naturally i would be devastated and i vented our such feelings here. at the time i was on my last year of secondary school so this blog was neglected for about a month. i don't know how i rediscovered it...or why i started to post stuff, but it all happened and here we are.
throughout my time blogging over the years i was always hopeful. i thought "what the hell. i'll be out of here in a few years time with the whole world left to explore. and maybe i'll find my frapanese scotsman!" five years later, some exploration done and not a frapanese sighted, I'm basically at the same point where I left off. yes, i do blame myself for this heinous circle, mostly because i didn't have any back-up plans (failures and missed deadlines and dire illnesses must be taken into account--ALWAYS) and i got distracted. the defining moment of my downfall? hm. i really believe it was when i stopped giving a fuck. really. i was also pretty sure i'd skim by without any terrible consequences. no. the world would never be that nice to me. nothing would ever be that nice to me.

for a while i lived with the depression and freedom and boredom. it was tolerable. who doesn't want to watch episode after episode of supernatural? but the good times began to wane. i had become someone i had always feared, worse than one of those people who seriously consider applying to nursing or technical schools after seeing those cheap-ass commercials that come on during ricky lake, i was really someone who frankly didn't give a damn. it was the ultimate shit feeling because i knew i was letting it happen...mostly because i felt so trapped. i'm in a terrible limbo--not quite graduated, nowhere to fucking go, nothing that likes me--and from my perspective there's way out. not even a hard, impossible one to try. even so, it's completely my fault the weight of my world is crushing me and stifling my attempts to better myself. i'm the most difficult person to overcome. alternatively, i can be my biggest inspiration (in lieu of a posse of best-friends-forever-for-life...because they can be so busy dealing with their own problematic lives these days).









I discovered these pictures in a cabinet. They’ve been there a while and I knew such things existed there, but it had been a really, really, really long time since I’d seen them, I mean really look at them. In my youth I would often flip through old photo albums or school year books pre-1998 and examine the pictures of people I knew, wanted to know, and couldn't care less about. i would also gaze at in my own captured image. i look rather pleased with existence, eh? i guess it's because i still had dreams of becoming an astronaut-zookeeper-animator-author-hollywood-person-world/universe/time-traveler who was certainly going to get a basic college degree or masters (in archeology, probably) and didn't know/care about the real shit in my way to becoming such an individual. seeing the way i was, how oblivious and hopeful about the world i looked, i felt fucking shit. how the hell could let someone down like that? why would i let myself get consumed in sloth and destroy the dreams of a badass (i was going to say 'precious' or 'sweet', but i've never really been like that to the core) girl? So, maybe i need to change my life for the motherfucking better...
i am positively convinced chicago is the only place that makes me 100% happy.
...
god. the bads totally outnumber the goods at this point. if i really never wanted to be this depressed and inept, i should've never been born. and i could never really be in control of that, right? (but i wish, truly do, i never came to be.)
...
guess i'll go back to actually trying again and having (tangible) goals.
화이팅.

Premium fade

it's roughly the middle of the month and life has not, simply refuses to, and continues no change. maybe little things that have no place in mattering. there has been too much movie and tv watching. since someone made me watch submarine because it was a coming-of-age film that seemed like something inanely british (though exclusively Welsh) i would fancy. i didn't much like it, the ending was terribly inconsistent, but there were some nice scenes. this film made me completely obsessed with alex turner again. i'm listening to the ost nonstop and it's so pretty; like when i associate sad songs to the miserable excuse of a life i attempt. this is my favourite.


apparently this was released again as a song on an arctic monkeys' album. not like i'm following all that again, i'm a pure turner convert. also, i think craig roberts and alex turner look alike except the former has a shorter/more compact head with darker hair..? young mr. roberts is now a part of the welsh actors i dream about on cold dark nights alone in my bed.
completely unrelated, i'm into elliott gould again. ages ago after seeing the original m.a.s.h. i developed a thing for him and there was another 70s era gould robert altman film on netflix (hello, long goodbye) so...i have a thing for 70s era elliott gould again. or maybe i'm saying i have a thing for hairy, tall jewish guys, but i already knew that.

new

another year. i have to admit 2012 was some kind of great. probably the best year overall i've had in a long time. yes, there was too much shit, but i think i got most of it flushed down the toilet and here we are all cleaned up. the only thing i really hope for this year is to be happy. don't know how that's going to work out. also trying to work on ...you know, other important stuff relevant to living in this day and age.

if you've been Bad or Good

after watching the complete first season of american horror story, i will admit to finding evan peters attractive.

maybe it was the portrayal of his character (oh that troubled youth would affect me again!) or the way he looked in bedhead hair with oversized sweaters or when he would wear that gimp suit--but he ensnared me. i want to curl up in bed with him and stare into his soulful eyes. or do whatever people do in beds..the most appealing aspect of evan peter's take on tate langdon was his devotion, how he would do anything to protect violet, how he couldn't fathom to be away from her, like violet was the only thing in the world that mattered (this came to be that one time when he told her she had been the light in the darkness he was made of). ...in my case, this has never happened to me. mr. peters fulfills the fantasy of knowing that one day i'll meet someone (dead or alive) who cares. and then i started to watch the second season of american horror story (asylum) and mr. peters was in it too as kit: 

there's something about him that's so... irresistible. what i wouldn't give to have him look at me that way,,, and today i started thinking, comparing if you will, a similar actor, someone who might make an interesting chiaro to mr. evan's scuro. the conclusion was michael cera.

look at that. i mean, there's some kind of white guy weirdo resemblance that i definitely can't shake. michael cera is not darkness or trouble or anything negative really. whenever i look at him, or even think about his voice, i smile and imagine rainbows, cotton candy, and dolphins frolicking in a purple sea. something pleasant, slightly lisa frank. 

...it's not quite as attractive...maybe cute? geeky, nerdy, i play video games for 13 hours a day cute? well, he's still someone i like. i can't believe he's canadian, it's totally news to me. 

anyway, this side-by-side comparison is kinda hilarious.

i don't know why this is a christmas post. 

santa should've left this to fill my stocking.

hohoho.

good bye, cruel world

the closing of 2012 has always been a bit..frightening? it causes a worry in me not felt since the turn of the millennia with something called y2k . although i wasn't so worried or freaked out hoarding toilet paper and snickers, but there was the uncertainty, the possibility that technology would implode, turn against the human race à la skynet, and we would become destitute without our internets and cell phones. there have been signs of this sort of thing happening with the rise of ridiculous "reality"" television coming about, sub par music, crimes of the past coming to light, falling off fiscal cliffs, and psychotic children. it's probably a good time to clean the slate and start a whole new world. a brave new world. 
rationally, there is no real threat to this coming of the end. i don't think people should be repenting for their lifelong sins...

should the end be approaching, however, i hope i'm doing something that makes me happy. i mean, i don't give a shit if i'm going to die as long as i feel good. ...like i've done everything i wanted to, within my means, and don't expect things to get any better.
...
hm. i guess i mean to say i really don't care if it's the end of the world. i'm rather tired of it. i wonder if this has anything to do with watching too much supernatural and american horror story. god, i don't want to be a ghost either.

Why not

I said something and he replied.
outstanding.
After all that time, I didn't think he'd do it.

But he is a gentleman. As shocking as this was, it erupted a super volcano of happiness in me. I suppose this is something girls like to file under, "hopefully this works out again".

Coke & Porn

i was recently called "promiscuous".

in real life i am certainly not "characterized by or involving indiscriminate mingling or association, especially having relations with a number of partners on a casual basis; heedless or irregular". personally, it's not a safe sounding thing for me to do. would i ever enjoy it? only if i was with the kind of guys I like i took significant offense to that comment because this person knows nothing, didn't take the fucking time to get to know, and made the stupidest assumptions about me. there's a gigantic difference between fucking around and trying to make friends. aside from making me all kinds of angry, it was so pathetic, so sad to realize there are skeevy jerks with who act skeevy because some bitch slut in their past really fucked them over in every way imaginable. and i mean there is nothing left of the happy, functioning person ths once was. they aren't men anymore--they've morphed into miserly creatures who wreck "revenge" and continue the circle of self-depreciation in meaningless sexcapades. yes, it's atrocious what happened to you. yes, i wish i could go back in time and warn you/personally make life better for you/tell you that fucking around with random girls because everyone's doing it is a dumbass thing. but what you've become...what you're trying to do now, that same old trick of fuck and dump...it doesn't work on smart girls. it never works on pretty girls.

and all that shit about knowing me, being like me?
you don't know what i am.
so fuck you. fuck your faux truffaut shit. i can find someone so much better, not to mention more attractive to "lock [ourselves] away from the world and make love and talk about how much life sucks".
at least i don't have STDs or STIs.
gook luck mending your wounds, psycho.