January 2010
Oh, fuck it all.
December 2009
I feel so much better now.
I'm out of place in all these places.
These days.
I just want to stop worrying about everything, stop feeling bad about myself, stop getting angry over small things, stop acting like and idiot, and just be me again. Somewhere I lost the part of me that was… me… and got caught up in other people. That might not make sense. Maybe it’s because the people who have been around me for so long aren’t there anymore. I mean, they...
UKULELE!
After years of wishing for one, I’ve finally gotten a ukulele. Too bad I can’t sing. Still though. It is small and it sounds lovely and it will fit in my dorm and I am happy.
As nice as things are now
I often find myself wishing it was already the future. I want my own apartment. I want a job. I want to live with my boyfriend and not have to say goodbye all the time. I want to start our own holiday traditions. I want to eat spicy sausages with pasta and watch movies and order pizza and clean frequently and pay my own bills and be my own person. Not just an extension of my parents anymore. Just...
“C’mon baby. Bubble for mama.”
– Rachael Ray on Iron Chef America.
What is her life?
I took nighttime cold medicine partly to get better but also so I could get sleepy and watch old Christmas cartoons. Makes me feel small and secure and warm and excited and hopeful. Helps me remember. Helps me have good dreams.
oh and please don’t just call me irrational and ignore me, because even if what I’m feeling doesn’t always make sense to you, it doesn’t change the fact that I’m feeling it. please.
[try and communicate with me?]
So many happy things.
Your Ex-Lover is Dead - Stars
Bollywood dances.
I got to see Ren lastnightthismorningtoday&againtomorrow :].
The Predatory Wasp of the Palisades is Out to Get Us! - Sufjan Stevens
Wes Anderson.
Fantasy trilogies.
Midnight Coward - Stars
The way christmas trees smell.
Wrapping presents for people.
These sweatpants.
Looking forward to watching Love Actually.
Looking forward to so...
Oh.
I guess nighttime is when I get antsy. It’s when I feel loneliest. (not that I’m lonely.) Just, at night everyone is far away, and I hate when the day ends and the people I love don’t say goodnight. Maybe that’s weird. But just once in my life I’d like someone to call without me asking, to say goodnight without me calling them to say it first. Just once. Anyone....
I want I want I want IwantIwantIwantIwant
so many things. Except I don’t know what they are.
frustrating.
I play with food.
I eat, I get full, I poke at what’s left looking defeated, and then I play. I mix things and smoosh them and create piles and mountains and paths and worlds and faces and everybody looks at me like I’m being an idiot because I’m not a kid anymore and should know better. Except I never did that when I was a kid.
Green apple mentos are my favorite and it makes me happy that the...
I AM DONE WITH MATH FOREVER!
and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever…
“It is better to be small, colorful, sexy, careless, and peaceful, like the...”
I'm glad.
The more I learn, the less I know.
I feel like hiking and climbing and jumping and kayaking and being a person and taking pictures and laughing and making fires and cooking hot dogs on sticks and sitting on damp logs and cutting my hair and exercising and rolling on the floor and sledding in mud and taking a bubble bath and cuddling with dogs without getting hives and volunteering and reading more and paying attention and falling...
OH MY GOD YES. →
I've noticed
that broccoli looks really funny up close.
really really funny.
and also it tastes better with salt.
I'm in trouble, I'm an addict.
I’m addicted to this [boy].<—- great song, by the by.
But actually. I think I’m a connection addict. I always have to be online, or have to be texting, or checking my email, or something. I can’t just sit there for a while and be alone. I need to need to need to know that at least one person out there knows that I exist. Cares that I exist. Is this weird? Am I the only...
You Too, and Stuff.
Where do good ideas come from? Do they even happen anymore? I feel like everything comes from an eternity of collective consciousness. We’re thinking the same thoughts as last generation’s last generation.
It’s scary.
I don’t want to be swept under the water, don’t want to be forgotten. What happens if I’m trying to be someone else without even realizing it?
Apparently
I’m supposed to have written 3 poems to put in my final portfolio for creative writing. Except, I don’t write poetry. I’m horrible with poetry.
….problem.
not looking forward to struggling through this.
What I should be doing.
put away my laundry.
shower.
library.
finish annotated bibliography (yay nudism!)
revise monster paper.
get ink - fix my printer.
print revised stories.
meet Alex at 4 in Monty. talk about my stories.
finish writing my author presentation, print it.
math class at 6 (LAST. CLASS. EVER.)
free the poets at 8 in DPC.
What I want to be doing -
finish Dracula.
find a big cozy chair.
read...
This is why I sleep but never wake up rested.
You left me
alone
in New York City.
“Don’t call, don’t text
don’t write.”
No kind words
not even “goodbye.”
I could not follow
so I just stood there
and watched
instead.
Had no money, no one
to go to.
I became
a construction worker.
We were building a bridge
and I jumped.
Woke up sobbing, shivering,
sick.
Woke up alone,
again.
I hate when...
I get all the way to the library with about a thousand pounds of books/papers/folders etc. only to realize that I left my headphones on my desk in my room. I will likely go down to the campus store and buy some new ones, just because writing is hard when I don’t have sounds, and writing is what I really need to be doing.
balls.
EDIT: Just realized I have no money with me. What a shitty way...
Dreams.
Sometimes I have the craziest dreams. Last night, I was in a hotel with my mom and brother. But it was only sort of a hotel. Really we were staying in this room with wall-to-wall coolers that had every drink ever… juice, vitamin water, milk, assorted mini liquor bottles… I’m not sure why that was such a prevalent image the whole time, but it was. To get out of our basement room...
“My mom kept trying to explain what beets were to me today. I kept telling her I...”
– - Christina Verna
This makes me happy for so many reasons. Mostly because it means a lot of things about the world, but kind of in a secret way.
WOAHWOAHWOAH.
I am already so confused!
Here are my questions -
What does following people do?
Why am I using this?
I don’t know.
Okay. I guess those are all my questions because I’m too flustered to do…things… yeah.
Also, I don’t know if I will ever feel notlame posting things on this. It’s weird. I love the word blog though… so round and squishy.
Okay?
This is tumblr, I guess.
Blogs are confusing. Internet is confusing.
I wish I could just write letters to everyone instead…
Though maybe this is fun, too.