'cause there's beauty in the breakdown

I think I lost track of myself somewhere along the way. It's extremely unfortunate because that's all I have in the long run. When chicks are chicks and dicks are dicks, I'll have myself. I can only blame myself for my past, and I can only believe in myself to create my future. I guess I call myself my 'God'. I am my own religion.

re‧li‧gion
noun
a set of beliefs concerning the cause, nature, and purpose of the universe, esp. when considered as the creation of a superhuman agency or agencies, usually involving devotional and ritual observances, and often containing a moral code governing the conduct of human affairs.


Sounds about right to me. I haven't discovered why I'm here, nor the purpose of the universe, but I'm well on my way to finding out. To be frank, I don't really believe that there is a cause or a purpose. It just is. We just are. You are, I am, we just are. Here. Now. &the only thing that we can be is ourselves. The only thing that we can do is be ourselves. When I die, I will only have myself. I won't bury my friends with me, I won't drag my family along, I won't stuff my enemies and the people I loathe in the casket as I'm lowered into the ground. I'll be alone. EXCEPT for my stuffed cat of course, Katrina. That's always been my master plan.

There's always room for speculation. There's never a bad time to have an open-mind. You're never too busy, too tired, too unattractive, too rushed, too stressed, too old, too young, too average or too poor to smile. Do us all a favour, look on the bright side. Irregardless if you like green grass or not. Oh, and one last thing before I go, remember to never let your mind go to waste. It's an incredibly powerful thing. Whatever is troubling you, just know that you'll make it through.

Would it kill you?

the new beginning.

39 past 11 o'clock, October 28th 2006
Saturday

I get these thoughts. thoughts.
marathon.

I can't find a way to express them in words, a gunshot will trigger a serious of thoughts.
thoughts.

I'm watching garden state with Crystal.
Dory is dying of Cancer. The crab.
thoughts.

I could be with you. I want to be with you. I think you want me to be with you.

It's hard to breathe lately.


thoughts.
it has been a wild ride.

42 past 11 o'clock, October 28th 2006
Saturday

leave your heart in it's place

Sondre Lerche is terrific music to fall in love to, especially in autumn. It's easy to imagine that the leaves are dropping to their pavement deathbeds as my heart flutters and screams out in pain. It hurts to fall in love, especially when you resist it. Latest news: I purchased Two Way Monologue's today! Remember? By Sondre Lerche? Now all I have to do is construct a portfolio, sharpen up my english, and get into ACAD. Then piece together my dress. Oh, and buy an apartment of course. Voila!


Seriously though, you will know what I like soon enough. Not YOU, persay, as the reader of this blog. I do this thing sometimes when I just ramble on about 'you', and it turns out being ten different people by the time I'm done. It's kind of humourous how it is you, but you won't read this. If you really want to know what I would change about you, fine, here:
1. Try to think less superficially.
2. Get the mindset OUT of your mind that showing affection will kill you.
3. Listen up, speak up, and learn how to say goodbye.


I hope you're happy. Now, moving on to other things. There is no word or phrase or action that can describe how positive and ready and prepared I am and that I'm going to be to be a fashion designer. Or at least, I'm going to make a significant impact on the fashion industry. I'll start my research now and get the knowledge drilled into my head. Then what? Send letters to Vogue pleading to be in their next issue? Yeah right. I guess I'll start with picking up the monthly editions of bleeding ink reflecting my passion, the glossy sheets softly butterfly-stroking through my pupils.


Nothing will stand in my way. Fashion is my life, it's always on my mind and nothing will change that. To stop living and breathing fashion is equivalent to throwing myself and my ten closest friends off the tallest building I can find. Don't worry though, I assure you: that will never happen.

what happened to 'love always, xo'?

Since my mom and all of her lj friends read this now, I have to keep things moderate. It shouldn't be that hard, considering I'm pretty tame to begin with. We'll see.

So I had a nice soak with a friend tonight. I can't really pinpoint if I'm more disappointed at what didn't happen, or pleased with what did. There was a huge potential for a little of this, and a little of that...a little somethin' somethin' if you know what I mean. Of course, none of that happened. I would've kicked the flirt drive into gear (or is it flirt gear into drive) but there was also a potential for really messing up our friendship. I definitely don't want that.

I guess I don't know what I want. It would be nice to know what I did wrong though.

Oh well.

I promise.

As my idol once said,
'bros before hos is the rule, read the guidelines.'


That means I can CLEVERLY ignore her, and BELIEVE in him. Enough of the SICK LEAVE boy, we're right back into the groove. I'm ready to ACHIEVE with you, and WE'VE got some work to do but don't GRIEVE, we'll RELIEVE stress and RECIEVE success before CHRISTMAS EVE.

and that's not MAKE BELIEVE.

ATTN: girl.

You're really driving yourself deeper into a ditch and you don't even see it. I think the worst thing is that you have the support of your family, and you do it with them and you're given freedom to make all the wrong choices. I wish I could make you see it though, maybe shove you into a bright room or take your blinders off. You're going to fail high school if you keep this up. Sure, your motor skills are greatly improved in that state but where is your mind?


Oh, and I would appreciate if you stopped making our locker smell terrible in your crazed plea for a year of hell.

halloween is coming!!

I'm starting to get used to the hectic lifestyle and insane environment of high school. I like how I'm treated as an adult as opposed to a child. I like how I've avoided drama completely so far, aside from the glares and sneers I get on the stairwell. I like how i can just shrug everything off. I like the newfound confidence I have, and the self-esteem I never knew I had. Nothing has really changed since this summer, I'm still spending my free time with the people I love (mostly) and stressing over silly things and not doing any homework and working and talking to Taryn every day. I can't exactly wear whatever I want anymore, my wardrobe choices are slightly limited now. It's not that I care what people think, I really don't, but I'd rather not be interrogated about my fashion sense at the moment. The boy situation is still on hold. No improvement. The teachers are more slack and less strict, most of them swear and don't care at all. I can't find my glue stick.

I've discovered that I prefer being a wallflower to being the center of attention. My ego actually has limits, believe it or not. In spanish the other day, a video was playing and the majority of the class was sleeping, a few were talking and several were scribbling mind trash onto looseleaf. I sat facing the class and scanned each being. Two particulars were getting to know eachother; smiling, laughing and nodding in affirmation to the previous statements. I wish I knew what they were talking about. The kids engulfed in slumber crouched over their binders or desks, breathing heavily. I wondered what they were dreaming about. The doodlers and daydreamers, almost lost in the densely populated forest of their brains, stared off into empty space. I tried to tap my way into their heads to figure out what they were thinking about. I don't know why, but I love observing kids and their families in their living spaces, comfortable and 'at home'. A house is just a house, brand new furnishings and glossy leather loveseats and granite countertops and a bedroom straight out of the latest IKEA catalog...it's all just a house to me. Opening my eyes to see the scuffmark on the floor from so and so's new leather boots in their mad dash for the door that morning, or the crumbs under the toaster or the V left in the carpet from whatsherface's hair straightener when she almost burnt the house down or the crowded mantlepiece or the family portraits or the pile of pine tree needles from last christmas that no one will sweep up or the thumbed through newspaper left in a heap on the kitchen table from that morning...or even just a messy bedroom. Every tiny thing makes each house a home -- it gives it character. I would love to construct an experiment -- to build five homes EXACTLY the same and furnish them EXACTLY the same and unleash five families...say a bachelor, a lawyer and his desperate housewife and their two kids and their german shephard, a single mom with a daughter, a bustling family of eight (mother, father, two boys [one's a baby], three girls, grandma), and a married couple of thirty-six years (very much in love STILL) with three grandchildren that come to visit on a regular basis. I would analyze how each family took their bright home and made it their own. I would pay special attention to their routines and meals and sleep patterns and household upkeep and time spent together and stress levels and music played in the house..just little meticulate details. I would do it just because I could. Not to be creepy or anything, just because I could.

Now I'm headed to bed. Modest Mouse has made me sleepy, and it's late. 1:30 am late. AND I have to work tomorrow. How lovely.

love always, xo