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.

give it to me, tom turkey

happy thanksgiving. i can recall the days when i was applying for college and so fucking full of hope. ah. the good ol' days.
also like those days, turkey will not be consumed in my household this year. it's not my thing to eat birds.

breaking

i truly miss the days when i would simply write on and on about irrelevant topics usually reflecting on my day and such. Most time there was absolutely no continuity between whatever I was typing up. God and the ambiguity I tried to keep up. I like to believe that it worked anyway. There was actually a time when no one dared to look at, let alone read, anything that was posted here. Yet here we are.
honestly,there is no reason to keep this blog up. its original purpose has been lost amidst all the mopey shit and semi-sequitur things that have gone on in the last six(!!) years. there is uncertainty as to whether this will continue; certainly those who have glanced at this bit of work have noticed the decline in writings with poignant content. well, in any case, i still want to keep it up to date with a few happenings.
something i've noticed over as the weeks have gone by is the frequency of odd and frightening dreams drempt. i wake up believing they are real and my emotions range from fear to anger. mostly limited to those two. and it's so odd; these dreams only occur the second time i've fallen back asleep. you know like when you wake up really early, maybe three or four, and then fall into slumber again after a minute? that's when the darkest thoughts creep out and manifest themselves in mental visions. at least for me. it is a very scary thing.
in any discernible case, this is a dribble of no nonsense suitable for people to consider. and i'm not feeling particularly great. it's very lonely here. lonely like when you're surrounded by others, but there isn't a connection with anything.i only wish this were longer.

She's in a lonely world

when i woke up this morning, the first thing i thought was, "there are two days i hate more than anything that come once a year: my birthday and new year's day." i think the worst aspect of these two, isolated days is the fact that you hope it will be better; an improvement from yesterday or a year ago, it can only ever be better. in a few cases this happens and you're happy while it lasts and you think, "gee, birthdays/new year's days are grand!". then there are times when the lingering feeling of stagnation or something worse happening creeps in and creep it does. my birthdays have always been in the second category for a long time. the last time i had a slimmer of a good time during my own birthday was probably when i was ten...or that time when i wasn't surprised at my surprise birthday party (a most failed attempt).
In the grand tradition of my birthday, it was the same this year of bits of boring (no singing, however) and disdain. the most exciting aspect of today, and i have been pondering this for the longest time, is the date. it's 10, 11, 12. all the numbers lined up so nicely, that's what makes today so special, a birthday that was meant to be special.

 the day started out pleasant, but by the early afternoon rain had started to fall and soon turned into a thunder and lightening bonanza. i have no qualms with rain, i quite like it, rather, and where i'm at now we need all the rain we can get.

look how lovely and and gloomy and wet it was. perfect weather to match my upset...i mean, languid feeling towards today. 

Here are a few of the things i got (?):

Some cards and a vampire cupcake. This clearly isn't like this. Sorry about that. I liked the vampire cupcake.

Adorable isn't it? Bloody fangs and all.

Having taken a bite out of him, i must say he's tasty. A bit too sweet, though. 
This day could have been so much better (especially with the rain! I have so much to do with someone in the rain...) and I hope next time it will be. Would someone care to make today happy?

For the time being I'm feeling ever so ancient. 

the difficulties

recently, i have been having the worst time trying to fall asleep at night. i would say this started in the summer, probably due to...ehm, the most stressful events ever, and here i am months later, suffering the fallout. urrrgh. two nights ago was the most dreadful as of late; tossing and turning in the dark occurred whilst i hoped closing my eyes would make me nod off. well, that clearly didn't work. it took me hours to find a comfortable position and tired enough to let the day go. the possibility of me having problems, mentally/physically, is great, do you not think?
and there's the trouble that comes when i do sleep: these dreams.
dreams of pure horror and unimaginable ecstasy (re: this and sometimes my other dog, but mostly this) which often collide into a scary, unappealing adventure in my subconscious.
these are things i do not understand. hoping these become more infrequent.

of my Dreams

i always hoped to find the great love of my life in a haphazard fashion, some silly scenario where i trip, fall, and get helped by a mysterious person who asks, "Are you All Right?" and we share a happy life for however long it lasts.
yes, it's silly. No, nothing of that sort has ever happened (crossing my fingers it does). this brings me to the actual subject of this shindig. i apologize for implying i plan to run around in the streets, falling on my face to get anyone to help me (a tall man, exclusively from northern england or scotland). these nights have been filled with odd dreams. i haven't experienced any of this sort in over ten years. and you know david tennant? he was the tenth doctor on doctor who and i think he's quite attractive for an older man and the only reason i knew who he was was because he had just finished a tour of hamlet with patrick stewart whilst i had been in england. anyway, i never watched doctor who, ever, but i did like david tennant before i started and kept this picture to gaze upon.

what i mean to say is a few of my dreams have revolved around me and the doctor. the last two recent doctors (oh! the things the 11th doctor did to me! utterly not at all very horrible). i think it's because of all the doctor who i have watched, aliens and time travel and stuff on the brain make me want to act them out in my dreams.
that's my analysis.
i can't believe he's scottish. and he married his "daughter"!!!

i know i am pure

there are those who believe the world revolves around them. proud, important people; it's perfectly reasonable for self-proclaimed awesome beings. if you're somebunny like me, though, you might think, "hey, why am i so great?"
the world has been revolving before my existence and it would keep revolving without me. why the fuck should it matter.
retrospectives are in order with some of the free time i've had. the one thing i realized was how horribly far away my actual life is from what i planned out when i was five. yes, it's disappointing, but not so much that i feel it's the end of the world. or that i should drastically change everything. seeing it turn out different makes me a tad upset; spending all those years making sure i would finish an academic career at st. john's lutheran school, continue at st. john high school, and get into that champagne college--dreams for fucking naught. how aggravating it was to see the hopes and dreams flutter away and being too young, stubborn, and feeble-minded to conjure up new ideas of a wonderful life in the real west. perhaps it was the result of absolute devastation. yes. that must have been it.

i have prolonged the teenager in me indefinitely. most likely not going to leave that stage anytime soon.

with all the new fangled things that have happened and that haven't i still wouldn't change anything. for the first time a long time since this crazy, angsty perpetuation of my life i'm relatively happy. it's not all the time (god, how miserable the days are), but in the right setting it can be absolutely blissful. the universe could implode explode, be destroyed by aliens raging an intergalactic war and i wouldn't give two shits about it. as long as i'm in the happy state anything could happen and it would be ok.
let's not get into what i'm like when that feeling isn't there. we won't delve into what i feel now. it's not necessary.

hmmm. onto more memorable past relics: i was going through my closet today, cleaning it out mostly, and i came across the tiny valentine's one passes out to classmates in elementary school. a whole fucking slew of them. a folded up piece of notebook paper, ragged edges gracing one side where it had been ripped out, caught my eye. as i started to unfold and open the thing my heart skipped a beat. was this that thing? that one thing that i had been looking for since i've been here? the paper that might've been lost forever???
well,
it was. here it is.

look at that! it was the first number i ever got from a boy i liked! no fourth grade girl could resist something as romantic as this...he's so fit in the drawing, but you know in real life he was a rather scrawny boy with a cute, innocent 10-year-old face. i treasured this thing when i received it, so shocked he'd even give me such a wonderful bit of art and information. somewhere between there and here the paper was misplaced and i've been wondering what had happened to it all these years.
i didn't call him when i got here.
a ten year old girl in a phone call situation with a boy she likes gives more than butterflies in the stomach.
i was/am more timid than most.
i don't plan on calling him now.
why would i be silly and do that after waiting 13 years?

methinks the word is Mum

this is indeed a disturbing universe.
something to worry about, be fearful of, scorn over.

Too due

here's to hopeless wishful thinking i'll get to have fun before fall hits (or a list of things i'd like to do by then):

-beach
-zoo/aquarium
-watch a film in a theater(i don't mean the one where i've been working at..unless there's something good showing. the couches there sure look comfy.)
-visit a dog
-pranzare a un ristorante buono
-see buddy holly again. at least once. ... who am i kidding?? i want the weekly hangouts back!
-find a way out of this country
-cream
-girl talk*
-art museum
-long walks to nowhere
-tacos
-be "happy"

i'm going to do as many of these things as possible. that most likely entails i'll be going alone. ... hmm, it's not like i ever do things with other people anyway.
*you need not be a girl to engage in this sort of talk with me, but the dynamics of this specific talk should be understood.

ain't misberating

these past two days were extremely productive! it distracted me from the harrowing thoughts flooding my brain recently. i have eruditely acquired too much information on how a certain language should work and i'm quite pleased with the results. this needs to get done.
however,
there are still bouts of anxiety.



replace "girl" with "boy".

fauxriental

i wish you would call.
please.

she will have to cry

there isn't too much serious discussion that ever goes on here. i think the one major post was about the time I talked about leaving school. ...it was a shit of a way to let people know about my departure, my fleeing, my calling it fucking quits, my dissatisfaction with everything happening to me; it was the only way i could break it to the masses (i couldn't bring myself to tell people straight up...rumors started that i had been eaten by the fat, monster-of-a-girl who lived on my dorm floor).

ok, back to the times that matter: so here we are, five years later, and my life is a touch more exciting and not as horrible. there have been good things. very good things that have made me smile nonstop, the real ones that you don't flash when you feel obligated to look like a sane citizen, and take pleasure in the notion that i'm alive right now. i didn't think it could happen to me, i don't even understand why i let something like two years ago fuck me over for such a thing, but there i was, struck with unnecessary emotions over....wait for it..a boy. is it so stupid that i thought one sweet-and-soft-talking, lying, awkward-handshaking artist from a few years ago was able damage me forever? i was quite sure he did so i avoided any such relations with people who i thought might look attractive and have penises. it was back to being quiet and guarded and lonely (this is ok, i'm a lonely person after all); existence was difficult in a solitary mental state. i came to miss the physical contact, the laughing at stupid things, the overall company of a boy (maybe even a homely one as long as we liked the same things..more on this later). the quest was arduous and unfruitful. how could anyone ever compare to a motherfucking artist who wore glasses and indulged in devious deeds that i could no longer live without...HOW?
eventually, my luck turned. patience is a virtue i never do without and i was well rewarded for a time. it's not often i will receive courting or revelations of admiration with delight. the majority of these advances are met with a coy smile declining such intentions. i mean, it's rare that this will happen to me. i can't even begin to imagine why anyone would find me remotely attractive: i'm generally short, rectangularly shaped, annoyingly silent, indecisive, unintentionally judgmental,wide-faced...the list goes on, but i don't want to demoralize myself any further...So it's always an uplifting sensation to have a reciprocation of liking from someone who doesn't turn out to be stalker or creepy 40-year-old geek who lives with his mom.

this brings me to the much eluded topic of...urgh...wuv. i can't stand thinking, talking, wondering...having anything to do with it. Love is such a powerful, definite word; the connotations apparent in it are so deep, it can't be flung around recklessly to express a vague liking of something--this is a feeling poets have been trying to encompass for ages, what artists have only dreamed of depicting, something young girls hope to fall into by the time they reach puberty.
in the course of relationships i've survived, the greatest adversary i've come to face is trust. At first it's easy to believe someone likes you, but as time progresses you pick out little characteristics that induce suspicion; by the end of dates or sex or walks in the park or sex or awkward car rides one can't help but wonder if he really cares...if he's already plotting a way to ensnare his next victim (consensually or not), if he thinks about you whilst on the loo because you certainly do. i mean, really, how can you tell if likes, let alone Loves, you?


of course there's the betty everett method to determine such a discrepancy. to be honest, it's never quite worked for me...and i'm still very much waiting for that one magical kiss where i wrap my arms around his neck, lift up left foot (and only the left), and there's a spectacle of fireworks going off around us (or it at least feels like it to me) and a i can see the whole thing enfolding as if a camera is encircling us to catch every angle of bliss.this has never happened.
i think this fantasy has to come to an end.

back to the point, if there is a point, if you've kept up with what i've put on here thus far and paid attention: my trust issues. Of course I've been lied to, damaged by selfish boys who want it all, and the tolerance for anyone who fucks me over wanes...at times i become consumed by paranoia. this is made all the worse as every boy/man/life-changing, magical entity has abandoned me, leaving without a trace or explanation, resulting in brooding, sobbing, and an overall mood of desolation on my part. there have been instances where i recall a fond or ridiculous memory and my eyes will well up (so much for being an emotionless mass of woman). all that flashes in my mind by then are thoughts of my insignificance and why i exist in world that would do fine, if not better, without me.
now i can't even remember what i was supposed to discuss, where i was going beyond a post regarding a special little guy who is leaving me for a better life...all i can say, since he's long gone and no longer thinking about a stupid, melodramatic girl, is i miss you. yes, i'm guilty of caring too much and possibly wishing of fulfilling my mad notion of becoming a single mother (it is a desire i often dream of....don't judge).

remnants good for a lazy saturday
so. this is mostly a dedication, an explanation (pending it is read in all its entirety by my special little guy), a retching of words to let you and whoever winds up here know that you're nothing short of amazing, that you fucking saved me, that i'm suffering without you...that maybe i lost the best gotdang person i've met in a while and it will take me eons to find the next one.
despite these revelations and admirations about this person, there is lingering doubt in my mind that he will be good; i only suspect your engagement in purely sexual escapades or narcotic affairs. i am driven to madness. as much as i'd like to ignore these thoughts, they always creep in when least expected. just because fucking feels good and i'm not there doesn't diminish the fact that i know you're being a jerk. please don't go around fucking trash. i worry and i endure the sensations of stupidity exerting too much concern over your activities. at least know i do.
in truth, i have never thought of you as a moral person; the decisions you make, the actions you do are based on your own intentions: let them die. there are things i've wanted to say in your presence, but why take me seriously...i hope you care, i assume you do since the last time i saw you..
on the issue of my loyalty i only have to say this on my behalf:
(1) i don't lie to people i don't know very well
(2) why would i do something stupid?
ANYWAY! this has been dragging on forever and it's out in the public free to be ridiculed and snuffed at by everybody. so that's it. i'm going to write miserable novels in the corner whilst sobbing...and don't fucking tell me to man up or have some balls because it's not physically possible for me to be or do those things.

curse these feminine qualities.

tornando ai film again

hello. i don't remember the last time i talked about a movie in a sort of review style. i know it was something i used to do, especially when i started posting on the regular and when i was taking those film classes and such three or four years ago. maybe i haven't seen anything worth mentioning since then (most likely the case), but today i would like to bring attention to les emotifs anonymes.

i absolutely relished this film to the full extent, rarely something i will admit to for a film with content such as this. i'm not normally the one to enjoy dramas and romances and comedies too often...i suppose there's too much to think about and keep track of once the film gets going and my upbringing on senseless violence has attributed to this so i end up spacing out or becoming jaded with the trite and banal plot. or i end up super emotional (damn you eternal sunshine).

les emotifs anonymes was different from the usual fare because i felt as if it was a representation of how i go about things, perhaps more of how i used to, and what's happening in terms of "i'm shy and awkward and you're shy and awkward....it's kind of a bad match" incident as of late. all i could think was, "god, that's basically me. i'm really almost that level of shy...holy fuck." it was just...i don't know, i felt as if it summed up what was going with me.
the plot revolves around a française chocolate maker who is part of a self-help therapy group à la AA where she reveals her struggles with shyness and love. she becomes employed at a chocolate-making shop(..? is that what you call those sort of places?), becoming the object of affection for her boss, an equally shy and awkward man who has a great love for women, but is too afraid to approach them romantically. it was an enjoyable to watch them interact in train-wrecking fashion over the most normal of everyday activities.
and i was maybe swayed a bit because it was a french film. i do enjoy those in general. most times. when the mood strikes.

i could relate to the awkwardness immensely.


i really had a wonderful time viewing this; it was magical in a weird way...i don't know. maybe you have to be a quiet, shy, covert romantic to understand why this film is good. i highly recommend giving it a watch.

it was pleasant to see this in the backgroud throughout the film, too.

this is Pierre Niney. it's almost as bad as my last obsession with Gaspard Ménier.

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."

Vicious

i am going to stop. i am going to stop. i am going to stop. i am going to stop. i am going to stop. i am going to stop. i am going to stop. i am going to stop. i am going to stop. i am going to stop.
why am i being more amoral than usual these days?
...
the feeling, it is so good.

homegoing

i spent the last weekend in illinois. it felt disturbingly foreign. i mean, yes, that is my homeland, the only place that matters, where over 65% of my immediate family reside, the only place i've ever been that matters to me, but i got a sick sensation when i landed. i don;t know exactly why that happened...kind of like purging my body of where i was for the past 13 years and making me pure again.

i hope that's the reason why i felt so displaced.

 

waiting in the terminals at lax

empty...

the whole weekend trip was optimally enjoyable; i like seeing family, especially family that i grew up and partied hard with. the surprise birthday thing that had a free open bar=fun. talking about stuff=fun. visiting the places forever engrained in my memories (or..passed down biologically)=..not so fun, leaving me awe-stricken at the changes. Um. I went to this Bass Pro Store and it was amazing inside..I mean, I couldn't fathom how cool it was going to be despite my disdain for outdoor activities (curse you, into the wild!!). 

Here are some of the things you can find in your local store:

 

 

and here is a cat at my cousin's house that would not get off my bed. it always snuck into my room and claimed the bed as its official nap spot. i was kind of pissed...

 

and then there was this:

 

Some things from my journey to "the city" (when did that holy reference com into being?):

 

 

 

it was a surprisingly nice day.

Etc. oddities/items of amusement/interesting bits:

 

And my last night there I went with my younger cousins to "rage", as they say in the 'burbs. ...i have not blown that much since high school.
the ultimate downside of this journey was suffering the scourge of tiredness.
ie: homework was not touched.

the next time i talk about this sort of event going on, i'll be middle-aged with two or three kids and a shit job. But at least I'll have my frapanese scotsman, I'll be right pissed it I don't.