| [[MISS CLEO]] |
[20 Apr 2009|11:45am] |
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MISS CLEO |
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I love this, I think I've watched it five times.
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| [[ THEY ONLY WANT YOU WHEN YOU'RE SEVENTEEN...]] |
[03 Apr 2009|06:53pm] |
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the yeah yeah yeahs - zero |
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When you're 21, you're no fun. I'll probably never figure out why I do things ass backwards, but I guess the least thing I can do is try to turn everything around again and make sense of it all. As you might've noticed, my birthday was on March 24th, bringing me to the lovely legal age of drinking. I bought a few twelve packs through the course of the week, among other sweet green confections, and had a blast. Lauren and I got to spend quality time together baking brownies, and made mixed drinks by the pool. It was a small, humble celebration, exactly how I wanted it. Several criticize me for "never going out", and I ask you this: Why should I leave the comforts of my home, where I've got everything I need, to waste money and time with you? Why should I exert the energy to meet new people when my predisposition before leaving really doesn't give a fuck? Call me antisocial, call me a recluse, whatever. I could give a shit what anyone thinks of the way I lead my life, as you've heard me say so many times before. Lately a rift, or a chasm if you will, has formed in the personal relationships I've made with people. I'm viewing things differently, and it's hard to get past some of the observational truths I've come to realize. Yeah, we all make mistakes, but I'll be goddamned if I sit back and watch someone make them after I've given them advice on the situation. I finally got all of my ducks in a row, and next week will probably be one of the busiest I've had in months, but I'm ready for it. For the first time, a Monday smells like hope. I'm setting up a bank account finally, and beginning my sales on eBay, redbubble, and etsy. There is no reason for me to have two years worth of Playboy magazines, over 40 Animorphs books, and close to 20 christian "Left Behind" paperbacks. Apart from actually never reading or looking at the first or third aforementioned, they're wasting space and pissing me off being there. My goal is to sell as fast as I spend, and as internet savvy as I've become lately, everything is right at my fingertips. Looking for work has been kind of a nightmare. I've posted craigslist advertisements for creative services, along with a resume for retail, only to hear nothing back. I've been out looking too and it's even more formidable. The escape from all the madness has been purely instinctual creation. If I didn't have the supplies or this vast amount of inspiration pouring out of me, I don't know what I'd do. I saw my mother for the first time in ages last weekend. She's gotten huge, and her attitude remains the same. I wish there was a simple way to walk out the door and let it slam behind me, but somehow it continues to get stuck underneath my Achilles tendon every time I try to leave.
( New Pictures Of Me )
( New Artwork )
( Renovation 2009 )
( VIDEOS WITH LEWIS )
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| [[NO ONE TO CRITICIZE ME THERE]] |
[19 Feb 2009|10:27am] |
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eine kleine nachtmusik - besuchen sie mich einmal |
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As the days seem increasingly shorter, the sun seems to cry out to me. I haven't been paying daylight much attention these days, but the more my eyes wander off into the horizon, the more guilt I feel for not carping any diem. The gentle rays cast shadows on the morning, and I'm all but satisfied with my life the way it is. Boredom is the number one culprit here, since nothing in this city is possible without gobs of Andrew Jackson's stuffed up your sleeve. I dropped my british literature class because I want to make more time for myself to look for jobs. Since I still have to wake up and pretend to go to class to satisfy my dad, it's giving me some much needed recollection time, and plenty of opportunities to get a new job. Between now and my birthday, I'm going to apply to every coffee shop within a ten mile radius, and put all of my tax money in the bank where it belongs.
I should have about twenty new pieces by then for sale as well, with the creation of my Etsy account well underway. The library has been screaming at me to come borrow books about entrepeneurship and online sales, because I'd love to make something out of nothing for once. Next semester I'm planning on adding art history to my repertoire as well, to gain an understanding of new styles and mediums I can manipulate to fit the market. Also, I seem to have an affinity for doing landscape drawings with charcoal, so if you have a favorite place, let me know, and I can try to create something for you. It's good practice, and in turn, you'll have a cool drawing to put up wherever you want. Prices will vary by size and difficulty, so keep that in mind.
My aunt has become like a second mother to me lately, and it's nifty that she and I can talk about absolutely everything without her judgement getting in the way like it does with my dad. I've always gotten along better with women anyway, I think I was born predisposed to that. I told her that I wish my dad would go out to bars and find a girlfriend or something, and she chuckled saying "Nobody is goin' to have him!". The scary thing is, she's right. If any self-respecting woman was treated like he treats his own child, rustling dishes around five minutes after I've dirtied them and bitching about the space heater running the electricity bill up a whopping two dollars, they'd lose their patience in a matter of minutes. Especially when I'm NOT THE ONE WITH UNECESSARY APPLIANCES TAKING UP ALL THE GODDAMNED POWER. How much sense does it make to have two refrigerators, when there's only two people living here? Right, none. Good answer. He wouldn't even make it to the second date with any woman.
I have this to say to everyone who reads here, and likes making a mockery of me: Your time is running short. All of you still lie to each other and yourselves. Samantha, you aren't even worth arguing with. As much as I'd love to comment back and forth until my fingers fall off and tell you what an ugly shit person you are, I could care less.
Leslie, I know you're still lying to me. It's alright, and I'm not mad at you for it, because it's not like that's going to solve anything anyways. I just want you to think back to the time we used to go to the smoking spot and chief on a blunt together, do you remember that night we were both sitting on the concrete tubes, having a cigarette, and you told me you were going to stop? How long it's been since those days, where the nights were endless and everyone got along. Before Dylan, before dope, before all of the madness that's been life. Do you ever miss the way things used to be? I wish you could realize what a beautiful person you are on the inside, and how she still exists somewhere. I meant to ask you as well, this website sent me an e-mail, and they want to use a picture of you in the book they're publishing about online blogging. I need your signature on the release form. On that note, I'm going to leave you with some lyrics that got me thinking the other day. Not just about you, but about everything, from Le Tigre's "Eau De Bedroom Dancing".
"I'm in the sky when I'm on the floor
The world's a mess and you're my only cure
There's no time for me to act mature,
Only words I know are 'more' 'more' and 'more'"
( DESERT DOGS )
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| [[ TAKE ME AWAY ]] |
[18 Feb 2009|11:45am] |
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lily allen - everyone's at it. |
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| [[ A SHOUT OUT.]] |
[16 Feb 2009|08:35pm] |
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of montreal - women's studies victims |
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I find it humurous that people my age are resorting to calling me a "slut", or creating falsities about me via LIVEJOURNAL to get their rocks off. First off, what I do in my sexual life has absolutely no bearing on your life. Two, adults can do whatever the fuck they want to do, so get off of mommy and daddy's moral high horse. I love that the only people who have something to say about these things, however... are ugly horse-faced cankle-toting mange infested Mercedes, and junkie mother peace advocate, Samantha. How many times have you shot up and watched The Hills, you dead behind the eyes piece of shit? I rest my case. Life has been glorious. I've been at the drawing board again coming up with landscapes and a lot of strange portraiture lately. I'm finally down to 150 lbs., my goal weight, so I'm looking forward to working out with Lauren this summer. The 21st birthday is a month away as well. My grades are on point this semester, and I'm working on my first 4.0 since middle school. Get money, fuck bitches.
( NEW ARTWORK UNDER CUT )
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cardiocentric's journal