Mar 22, 2011
Mar 16, 2011
Summer's On It's Death Bed
My Chemical Romance with Neon Trees April 17th.
Panic! at the Disco with fun. and Foxy Shazam June 3rd. With possible meet and greet. Early admission. Special edition shirt and poster.
I'm not bragging... but FUCK. YES.
Sprinting through the rain like an uber nerd. Almost barfing shamrock shake. These are tiny memories collecting in my brain.
A word for the wise, don't run with a backpack on. You go up, backpack goes down. It will offset you. And you'll look like a nerd.
Rambling post of ramblingness. Homework monster has eaten my brain. The Poulakosaurus-raptor has decided to attack tiny student dinos. "
"Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable." --C.S. Lewis
Panic! at the Disco with fun. and Foxy Shazam June 3rd. With possible meet and greet. Early admission. Special edition shirt and poster.
I'm not bragging... but FUCK. YES.
Sprinting through the rain like an uber nerd. Almost barfing shamrock shake. These are tiny memories collecting in my brain.
A word for the wise, don't run with a backpack on. You go up, backpack goes down. It will offset you. And you'll look like a nerd.
Rambling post of ramblingness. Homework monster has eaten my brain. The Poulakosaurus-raptor has decided to attack tiny student dinos. "
"Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable." --C.S. Lewis
ma rêverie déversements de ma tête d'or
Mar 10, 2011
Mar 1, 2011
Tomorrow Never Knows
I'm in one of those moods. It's more than just my 'I'm-feeling-creative-and-inspired-lets-create-a-lot-of-artwork-and-take-pictures-mood'. It's my 'I'm-feeling-creative-and-inspired-lets-draw-and-create-a-flickr-and-type-a-post-and-buy-sneakers-and-everything-else-that-seems-productive-but-really-isn't-because-I-still-have-crap-to-do-mood'.
All of this started because I was looking through Matt & Kim's pictures.
I love them both.
I think I might just have to spend all my money on these Converse's I just designed. *Not, of course, breaking into my *almost non-exsistent* camera fund* They were inspired by non other than Kim Schifino. But it's ok.
Though I also have a large list of CD's I have to get around to buying. It'd be nice if I worked more. I want summer. Other than the obvious reason--another year of a summer job. I'm not shallow and I try not to focus on the trivial things..but I'll admit. I have this *somewhat large* mental list of things I need to get around to buying.
A Fight Club poster is on that list.
if I could just find one. That's NOT lame. Though I don't have a problem with Edward Norton posted to my walls.
My earlier 'mood' seems to have taken over this post. More useless talking. Blah.
I even annoy myself sometimes...or always. Usually always.
Complete irrelevance, I belong in YouTube Anonymous. One of my favorite things to look up is song covers. I found this girl, she's super cute, and has a great voice. I like this song, but she just made it ten times better. It's time like this I wish I had a voice. Being able to play the piano is a lot more impressive when you can sing too.
She also has some pretty beast Xtina covers.
46 DAYS UNTIL MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE (+NEON TREES) CONCERT!
All of this started because I was looking through Matt & Kim's pictures.
I love them both.
I think I might just have to spend all my money on these Converse's I just designed. *Not, of course, breaking into my *almost non-exsistent* camera fund* They were inspired by non other than Kim Schifino. But it's ok.
Though I also have a large list of CD's I have to get around to buying. It'd be nice if I worked more. I want summer. Other than the obvious reason--another year of a summer job. I'm not shallow and I try not to focus on the trivial things..but I'll admit. I have this *somewhat large* mental list of things I need to get around to buying.
A Fight Club poster is on that list.
if I could just find one. That's NOT lame. Though I don't have a problem with Edward Norton posted to my walls.
My earlier 'mood' seems to have taken over this post. More useless talking. Blah.
I even annoy myself sometimes...or always. Usually always.
Complete irrelevance, I belong in YouTube Anonymous. One of my favorite things to look up is song covers. I found this girl, she's super cute, and has a great voice. I like this song, but she just made it ten times better. It's time like this I wish I had a voice. Being able to play the piano is a lot more impressive when you can sing too.
She also has some pretty beast Xtina covers.
46 DAYS UNTIL MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE (+NEON TREES) CONCERT!
Feb 16, 2011
Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me
I figured a proper post was in order. More or less whatever runs through my mind.
Yes. I did just post a picture of Audrey Kitching. She's pretty, and I love this picture.
So as I sit here on a Sunday night, at 11:00, I have screwed myself over once again. My sketchbook sitting on my bed, for my unfinished sketch for art class. My literature book sitting in my locker, all 10 unread chapters. My empty word document, waiting to finish that third page. I am Jack's sense of failure and defeat.
Nothing really matters, anyone can see, nothing really matters to me.
If I had a tumor I'd name it high school.
'Nothing is original. Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration or fuels your imagination. Devour old films, new films, music, books, paintings, photographs, poems, dreams, random conversations, architecture, bridges, street signs, trees, clouds, bodies of water, light and shadows. Select only things to steal that speak directly to your soul. If you do this, your work (and theft) will be authentic. Authenticity is invaluable; originality is nonexistent. And don't bother concealing your thievery--celebrate it if you feel like it. In any case, always remember what Jean-Luc Godard said: "It's not where you take things from--it's where you take them to.'
Maybe if I disappoint myself enough I could pick all the pieces back up. You have to hit the bottom before you can make it to the top. I must not have hit bottom yet. Because I think I just sunk a little lower.
It's nice to know that you can always find a fault. Because of course nothing could ever be good enough. I still feel guilty. A moment is all you can ever expect from perfection.
But then I start to annoy myself. Again. Those abstract little thoughts with obscure meanings that just kind of flicker through my mind with incoherent passings.
People ask you questions just so they can talk about themselves. And when they don't reciprocate, thats when we get pissed off.
It's funny how facebook has the power to make you want to be anyone but yourself. That girl with a thousand photos and perfect blond hair. That gorgeous scene boy with annoyingly deep felt lyrics as statuses. From a picture anyone's life can seem better than your own. This is before you realize it's like an advertisement, false imagery. And you feel stupid. But that person you never wanted to be, suddenly their life seems pretty damn appealing.
Read this. You're not depressed. Your pity party is not something I'm interested in attending.
http://www.altpress.com/contributors/entry/see_you_next_fall._and_the_one_after_that._and_the_next_one._and/
This song is gorgeous.
Yes. I did just post a picture of Audrey Kitching. She's pretty, and I love this picture.
So as I sit here on a Sunday night, at 11:00, I have screwed myself over once again. My sketchbook sitting on my bed, for my unfinished sketch for art class. My literature book sitting in my locker, all 10 unread chapters. My empty word document, waiting to finish that third page. I am Jack's sense of failure and defeat.
Nothing really matters, anyone can see, nothing really matters to me.
If I had a tumor I'd name it high school.
'Nothing is original. Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration or fuels your imagination. Devour old films, new films, music, books, paintings, photographs, poems, dreams, random conversations, architecture, bridges, street signs, trees, clouds, bodies of water, light and shadows. Select only things to steal that speak directly to your soul. If you do this, your work (and theft) will be authentic. Authenticity is invaluable; originality is nonexistent. And don't bother concealing your thievery--celebrate it if you feel like it. In any case, always remember what Jean-Luc Godard said: "It's not where you take things from--it's where you take them to.'
Maybe if I disappoint myself enough I could pick all the pieces back up. You have to hit the bottom before you can make it to the top. I must not have hit bottom yet. Because I think I just sunk a little lower.
It's nice to know that you can always find a fault. Because of course nothing could ever be good enough. I still feel guilty. A moment is all you can ever expect from perfection.
But then I start to annoy myself. Again. Those abstract little thoughts with obscure meanings that just kind of flicker through my mind with incoherent passings.
People ask you questions just so they can talk about themselves. And when they don't reciprocate, thats when we get pissed off.
It's funny how facebook has the power to make you want to be anyone but yourself. That girl with a thousand photos and perfect blond hair. That gorgeous scene boy with annoyingly deep felt lyrics as statuses. From a picture anyone's life can seem better than your own. This is before you realize it's like an advertisement, false imagery. And you feel stupid. But that person you never wanted to be, suddenly their life seems pretty damn appealing.
Read this. You're not depressed. Your pity party is not something I'm interested in attending.
http://www.altpress.com/contributors/entry/see_you_next_fall._and_the_one_after_that._and_the_next_one._and/
This song is gorgeous.
Feb 1, 2011
Cut and Cross Wires, Electric Fires
I've met God across his long walnut desk with his diplomas hanging on the wall behind him, and God asks me, "Why?"
Why did I cause so much pain?
Didn't I realize that each of us is a sacred, unique snowflake of special unique specialness?
Can't I see that we're all manifestations of love?
I look at God behind his desk, taking notes on a pad, but God's got this all wrong.
We are not special.
We are not crap or trash either. We just are.
We just are, and what happens just happens.
And God says, "No, that's not right."
Yeah. Well. Whatever. You can't teach God anything.
Why did I cause so much pain?
Didn't I realize that each of us is a sacred, unique snowflake of special unique specialness?
Can't I see that we're all manifestations of love?
I look at God behind his desk, taking notes on a pad, but God's got this all wrong.
We are not special.
We are not crap or trash either. We just are.
We just are, and what happens just happens.
And God says, "No, that's not right."
Yeah. Well. Whatever. You can't teach God anything.
Jan 31, 2011
Thank You For Not Sharing
Because I figured if I have nothing to say, I can use the work of others.
"Everyone smiles with that invisible gun to their head."
I only mean half of what I don't say.
"Everyone smiles with that invisible gun to their head."
I only mean half of what I don't say.
Jan 14, 2011
You Worried?
Tell me this isn't cute. Tell me this little twitching, rambling, blonde, crack attack Billy Joe isn't cute.
'She screams in silence/a sullen riot penetrating through her mind/waiting for a sign/to smash the silence with the brick of self control.'
I've concluded we're all more screwed up than anyone cares to notice.
I'm sorry you can't accept yourself, whether it be in love or hate, to close the spilt daydream and mend the broken thoughts.
Rip yourself open and sew yourself shut.
'Are you locked up in a world that's been planned out for you?/Are you feeling like a social tool without a use?/Scream at me until my ears bleed/I'm taking heed just for you.'
What are you going to do when that silver spoon you held for so long falls out of your mouth?
If you confuse me, have you succeeded?
Don't try to convince me that I'm that good an actor.
The details of irrelevancy that you hope to burn me with. Crush their pedestals as yours raises higher on false truths and desperate prevaricate and innuendo. But your silence cuts deeper than the words ever could.
Go ahead, see if you can buy that happiness you've always wanted.
'She's figured out all her doubts were someone else's point of view/Waking up this time/To smash the silence with the brick of self control.'
By Andrew Zbihlyj
'She screams in silence/a sullen riot penetrating through her mind/waiting for a sign/to smash the silence with the brick of self control.'
I've concluded we're all more screwed up than anyone cares to notice.
I'm sorry you can't accept yourself, whether it be in love or hate, to close the spilt daydream and mend the broken thoughts.
Rip yourself open and sew yourself shut.
'Are you locked up in a world that's been planned out for you?/Are you feeling like a social tool without a use?/Scream at me until my ears bleed/I'm taking heed just for you.'
What are you going to do when that silver spoon you held for so long falls out of your mouth?
If you confuse me, have you succeeded?
Don't try to convince me that I'm that good an actor.
The details of irrelevancy that you hope to burn me with. Crush their pedestals as yours raises higher on false truths and desperate prevaricate and innuendo. But your silence cuts deeper than the words ever could.
Go ahead, see if you can buy that happiness you've always wanted.
'She's figured out all her doubts were someone else's point of view/Waking up this time/To smash the silence with the brick of self control.'
By Andrew Zbihlyj
Jan 12, 2011
Oh, What's So Fine, Dear
" 'Dear God,' she prayed, 'let me be something every minute of every hour of my life. Let me be gay; let me be sad. Let me be cold; let me be warm. Let me be hungry...have too much to eat. Let me be ragged or well dressed. Let me be sincere - be deceitful. Let me be truthful; let me be a liar. Let me be honorable and let me sin. Only let me be something every blessed minute. And when I sleep, let me dream all the time so that not one little piece of living is ever lost.' "
I am of old and young, of the foolish as much as the wise;
Regardless of others, ever regardful of others.
Maternal as well as paternal, a child as well as a man,
Stuff'd with the stuff that is coarse, and stuff'd with the stuff that is fine.
One of my many favorites - A Dream Within a Dream by Edgar Allan Poe
Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow-
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep - while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?
I am of old and young, of the foolish as much as the wise;
Regardless of others, ever regardful of others.
Maternal as well as paternal, a child as well as a man,
Stuff'd with the stuff that is coarse, and stuff'd with the stuff that is fine.
One of my many favorites - A Dream Within a Dream by Edgar Allan Poe
Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow-
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep - while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?
Jan 1, 2011
In the Daylight Anywhere Feels Like Home
'Last years wishes are this years apologies'.
Maybe I'm just lame. But I could care less that 2010 is over. Whats the difference between celebrating a new year and a new month? A yearly mark just gives us an excuse to create all of these false goals and resolutions that no one will ever complete. Mine was to eat healthier. I mark that I gave up today, January 1st, after my second Capri Sun..gummy worms..and ice cream. I'm not one for any sort of commitment, long term project, or really anything that requires effort for a continual amount of time. Wow. I'll make a horrible girlfriend.
Looking back I don't think I did anything to make 2010 a very special year, or nothing too memorable happened. Let's see: 8th grade ended. That was a great year though. I loved 8th grade. Probably one of the best school year experience so far. Then came summer. That's all become a jumbled mess. It didn't seem that great when school rolled around, but looking back, day by day it was pretty fun. Vermont, concert, Abby's house, pool with Abby, my house with Abby...I'd have to say it was probably one of the best summers I've ever had. I'm that kid that will always be waiting for that one extraordinary summer, better than all the others, but nothing will ever seem good enough. Hmm. I seem to be contradicting my earlier statement. In my mind, the year overall was just another year to live..but month by month it was fun.
And here it is. 2011. This shit just got real. Who knows what will happen. Maybe I'll finally get it together and realize I need to put more effort into school. Maybe as I grow older, I'll discover more about myself, and what I want to do with my life. Or just maybe, our dream of a magical flying pocket Brendon Urie will finally come true. Someone needs to photoshop this up for us.
Complete irrelevancy..I got a camera for Christmas. Think Polaroid. Except it's a Fujifilm. The picture comes out immediately on film. It's pretty fun, and a little part of me has always liked photography. I like the effect that instant cameras have on the picture. Photography is just a cool thing in general. I even like the word. Which is why, I've decided, while browsing Sears while the parents bought a new tv, I want a camera. Preferably a Canon. With a telephoto zoom lens. And wide angle lens. But just a standard zoom lens would be great..
Besides for photography, I'm also into *5th grade moment* people being a copycat. I love when something of your own immediately becomes an interest of someone who wants it all. You have it, and they don't, so by them having what was yours originally..it immediately makes them a better person then right? Because that is some fucked up logic you have there. And I'm not talking about inspiration. You build yourself based off of others, but ultimately, you are your own person in the end. It just takes a long time to figure all of yourself out. And then it's just all #eggsandbacon.
"...for strange effects and extraordinary combinations we must go to life itself, which is always far more daring than any effort of the imagination."
The wonderful words of Sherlock Holmes. Or Arthur Conan Doyle. Whichever way you look at it.
'I wanna scream I love you from the top of my lungs but I'm afraid that someone else will hear me/you can only blame your problems on the world for so long before it all becomes the same old song.'
'We're the new face of failure/prettier and younger but not any better off/bulletproof loneliness at best'.
Death is... by Sebastian E.
Maybe I'm just lame. But I could care less that 2010 is over. Whats the difference between celebrating a new year and a new month? A yearly mark just gives us an excuse to create all of these false goals and resolutions that no one will ever complete. Mine was to eat healthier. I mark that I gave up today, January 1st, after my second Capri Sun..gummy worms..and ice cream. I'm not one for any sort of commitment, long term project, or really anything that requires effort for a continual amount of time. Wow. I'll make a horrible girlfriend.
Looking back I don't think I did anything to make 2010 a very special year, or nothing too memorable happened. Let's see: 8th grade ended. That was a great year though. I loved 8th grade. Probably one of the best school year experience so far. Then came summer. That's all become a jumbled mess. It didn't seem that great when school rolled around, but looking back, day by day it was pretty fun. Vermont, concert, Abby's house, pool with Abby, my house with Abby...I'd have to say it was probably one of the best summers I've ever had. I'm that kid that will always be waiting for that one extraordinary summer, better than all the others, but nothing will ever seem good enough. Hmm. I seem to be contradicting my earlier statement. In my mind, the year overall was just another year to live..but month by month it was fun.
And here it is. 2011. This shit just got real. Who knows what will happen. Maybe I'll finally get it together and realize I need to put more effort into school. Maybe as I grow older, I'll discover more about myself, and what I want to do with my life. Or just maybe, our dream of a magical flying pocket Brendon Urie will finally come true. Someone needs to photoshop this up for us.
Complete irrelevancy..I got a camera for Christmas. Think Polaroid. Except it's a Fujifilm. The picture comes out immediately on film. It's pretty fun, and a little part of me has always liked photography. I like the effect that instant cameras have on the picture. Photography is just a cool thing in general. I even like the word. Which is why, I've decided, while browsing Sears while the parents bought a new tv, I want a camera. Preferably a Canon. With a telephoto zoom lens. And wide angle lens. But just a standard zoom lens would be great..
Besides for photography, I'm also into *5th grade moment* people being a copycat. I love when something of your own immediately becomes an interest of someone who wants it all. You have it, and they don't, so by them having what was yours originally..it immediately makes them a better person then right? Because that is some fucked up logic you have there. And I'm not talking about inspiration. You build yourself based off of others, but ultimately, you are your own person in the end. It just takes a long time to figure all of yourself out. And then it's just all #eggsandbacon.
"...for strange effects and extraordinary combinations we must go to life itself, which is always far more daring than any effort of the imagination."
The wonderful words of Sherlock Holmes. Or Arthur Conan Doyle. Whichever way you look at it.
'I wanna scream I love you from the top of my lungs but I'm afraid that someone else will hear me/you can only blame your problems on the world for so long before it all becomes the same old song.'
'We're the new face of failure/prettier and younger but not any better off/bulletproof loneliness at best'.
Death is... by Sebastian E.
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