All of my friends have been so happy lately. It's wonderful. It makes me happy to watch their happiness. I'm like a little happiness moocher. Because everyone else is so happy. It makes me want to be happier. And I feel stupid when I complain about anything because everyone is so happy that me not being happy wouldn't be very happy.
If you say a word long enough it doesn't sound like a real world anymore.
...happy.
It's so happy it's obnoxious.
Apr 12, 2011
Mar 29, 2011
Because I Bought a One Way Ticket
Zoloft, Ambien, Adderall -- feel better, sleep better, concentrate better than your lifestyle allows.
Because maybe this is all art has come to.
Sometimes I feel like we're losing originality in our world.
We probably aren't.
But I feel like we are.
Maybe I'm wrong though, and using the same hook as an already popular song a key lower is what the music industry really needs. *coughFRIDAYcough* Really.
People hate too much. People are also annoying hypocrites. I, and some other friends (hey Alysha!) tend to hate on a lot of things. I hate hipsters (...but really. Who doesn't?) I hate Disneyworld. I hate tea. It's kind of the simple things, but eventually you get to a point where you don't truly admire anything. A liking or admiration for something is truly the lacking presence of hate. I'm not saying I'm that person. I just like to think I'm a little more vehement when it comes to arguing or expressing a dislike.
As I understand it *uses socratic circle lexicon ingrained into mind* America's lacking. Oh poo poo, the snarky complaints of a pissed off teenager. I'm not going to pretend and claim to have even a slightly intelligent understanding of politics. In fact, I'm rather ignorant when it comes to our country and issues around us. That's what happens when you're a little egocentric adolescent. But I think we could all have a little more empathy.
I truly am a hypocrite.
I'm a very unsympathetic person. Very.
Let alone empathy.
But it'd be nice.
I got thinking about all of this because of an article I read. See? Reading is good. For all of those who claim "I hate reading". Well. STFU.
In other words, I've decided to write a book, appropriately titled "The Internet Has Ruined All Of My Social Expectations for Normalacy". Because of the internet, I read too much of what I won't even go into. I associate bathtubs with cutting yourself. Cabins with sex. And held a very interesting conversation at lunch about how you can smell sex on a person. I'm thinking it could be a best seller.
Ever see that episode of Spongebob called Not Normal? Watch it. There's a pretty powerful message if you can look beyond Spongebob laugh/Squidward's I hate life motto/Patricks utter stupidity. *sighs* Show's gone downhill.
(http://spongebob.nick.com/videos/clip/not-normal-gone-full-episode.html)
Speaking of Spongebob...CHILDHOOD SHOWS. I was caught in a riveting conversation about this during history class. *stares guiltily at blank notes sheet* This was MY SHOW as a kid. Literally. If you could condense my childhood into an 11 minute animated cartoon..this would be it.
Conversation also included: Ahh! Real Monsters, Rocket Power, PB & J, Rolie Polie Olie, The Weekenders, ANGRY BEAVERS (they hold a special place inside my heart), Rugrats, Johnny Bravo, Courage the Cowardly Dog, Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy, DANNY PHANTOM, and all those other wonderful 90's cartoon. Oh. And the Amanda Show and All That.
Oh nostalgia I don't need you anymore.
Me verser une forte dose de l'atmosphère.
Because maybe this is all art has come to.
Sometimes I feel like we're losing originality in our world.
We probably aren't.
But I feel like we are.
Maybe I'm wrong though, and using the same hook as an already popular song a key lower is what the music industry really needs. *coughFRIDAYcough* Really.
People hate too much. People are also annoying hypocrites. I, and some other friends (hey Alysha!) tend to hate on a lot of things. I hate hipsters (...but really. Who doesn't?) I hate Disneyworld. I hate tea. It's kind of the simple things, but eventually you get to a point where you don't truly admire anything. A liking or admiration for something is truly the lacking presence of hate. I'm not saying I'm that person. I just like to think I'm a little more vehement when it comes to arguing or expressing a dislike.
As I understand it *uses socratic circle lexicon ingrained into mind* America's lacking. Oh poo poo, the snarky complaints of a pissed off teenager. I'm not going to pretend and claim to have even a slightly intelligent understanding of politics. In fact, I'm rather ignorant when it comes to our country and issues around us. That's what happens when you're a little egocentric adolescent. But I think we could all have a little more empathy.
I truly am a hypocrite.
I'm a very unsympathetic person. Very.
Let alone empathy.
But it'd be nice.
I got thinking about all of this because of an article I read. See? Reading is good. For all of those who claim "I hate reading". Well. STFU.
In other words, I've decided to write a book, appropriately titled "The Internet Has Ruined All Of My Social Expectations for Normalacy". Because of the internet, I read too much of what I won't even go into. I associate bathtubs with cutting yourself. Cabins with sex. And held a very interesting conversation at lunch about how you can smell sex on a person. I'm thinking it could be a best seller.
Ever see that episode of Spongebob called Not Normal? Watch it. There's a pretty powerful message if you can look beyond Spongebob laugh/Squidward's I hate life motto/Patricks utter stupidity. *sighs* Show's gone downhill.
(http://spongebob.nick.com/videos/clip/not-normal-gone-full-episode.html)
Speaking of Spongebob...CHILDHOOD SHOWS. I was caught in a riveting conversation about this during history class. *stares guiltily at blank notes sheet* This was MY SHOW as a kid. Literally. If you could condense my childhood into an 11 minute animated cartoon..this would be it.
Conversation also included: Ahh! Real Monsters, Rocket Power, PB & J, Rolie Polie Olie, The Weekenders, ANGRY BEAVERS (they hold a special place inside my heart), Rugrats, Johnny Bravo, Courage the Cowardly Dog, Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy, DANNY PHANTOM, and all those other wonderful 90's cartoon. Oh. And the Amanda Show and All That.
Oh nostalgia I don't need you anymore.
Me verser une forte dose de l'atmosphère.
Mar 24, 2011
Mar 23, 2011
if i had a tumor i'd name it after you.
Ohmygod. People make me want to take a gun to my head and paint the walls with my brain. Sorry to crash your little pitty party, but SUCK IT THE FUCK UP.
Oh. And my rooms smells like summer. It's delicious. It's a mixture of that fresh summer/spring air smell from sleeping with my windows open the last few days, and lotion, the specific one I used all of last summer. It's like the greatest thing ever.
Oh. And my rooms smells like summer. It's delicious. It's a mixture of that fresh summer/spring air smell from sleeping with my windows open the last few days, and lotion, the specific one I used all of last summer. It's like the greatest thing ever.
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.
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