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"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
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the Best
when is the best time to die? I'd think not.
just before prom season - imagine:
white suv limo at a stop light, quietly rumbling behind the black hearse
was their life over too soon? perhaps it was time. maybe it was long time coming.
black and white, life and life, so close but so different
it's a wonder young people don't die more often. saves on the tragic, i suppose.
Dreaming of poor sleep and actually sleeping poorly, is there a difference?
at 4:22pm
i decided to step out.
crisp air and the setting sun.
i'm 19 again, spending the long weekend at home, spending a day with you doing nothing, driving, talking, not talking, being.
it's odd how even after so much time (it feels longer) i still think about you (not all the time), and there are times when i miss us. now.
pretend for a second i'm in a movie - sitting on my balcony, garbagebag covered lawn chair. the temperature is -8C and i'm in my coat. the dying sun reflects in my eyes and i squint. i'm smoking a cigarette.
do you ever think of me?
sounds | Sunset by the XX
Overwhelming sense of frustration with a(n un)healthy dose of rage thrown in
i fear i may be lost
“After spending time with a girl, you feel exhausted because she takes more than she gives. After spending time with a woman, you feel invigorated, because she empowers you with possibility, and a passion for life.”
N. Mah (relevant article)
"I write dreams" That's what my ad in the paper says. It's not something you see everyday so quite often, my phone would ring and I'm asked, "what do you mean, write dreams?" Simply put, we meet for two hours over coffee at a cafe of your choosing (maybe three if you're cute). We talk about anything and everything; what you do, where you're from, your fears, your desires, your brother's fiance's sister's boyfriend troubles. One week later, there will be a letter in your mailbox. If I've done my job properly, you will read it and realize you are a) exactly where you need to be, kudos, or b) a bit off track but with some new habits and outlook, you could be that person you've always wanted to be, or unfortunately, most often c) following the crowd got you security at the price of happiness and self, now your dream self is precisely that, a dream. How do I know? The faraway look in your eyes. The twitch of a sad smile, the way you fidget, the half-hearted wave of your hand. The way you laugh, the way your eyes shine, the way you pull at hem of your shirt. The desperation with which you hold your coffee cup (or was that tea?). I write the truth you know. Care to meet for coffee?
lottery
A loft with large windows facing water and trees A balcony Minimal furniture
I would live here.
A pair of safety glasses A wood shop Wood, wood, old, young, new, drift
I would make tables, chairs, cabinets, beds, couches, a stool. But not a hutch – what’s the point of a hutch?
A sewing machine A dress form Fabrics, zippers, buttons
I would make clothes, but not just clothes. Fashion, perhaps. Jumping in with both feet, no matter the size of challenge is something I believe in, but only when it comes to projects that will never amount to anything. (too bad socially-productive tasks like work and study is something I can’t manage)
A quality sound system An easel Canvases, brushes, paint
I would spend my days listening to music, painting, sitting, thinking, reading, breathing fresh air and watching the blue sky. (the feel of bristles against a canvas, guiding paint into something substantial, something physical that brings forth an idea, I miss it)
A chance An opportunity Determination, freedom, belief
Am I a dreamer at heart? I’m not sure. Whatever I am, the process of creation is something I want. Want. Want. Sometimes quite desperately. If I stop for long enough, I find myself thinking “what if I was brave enough”. And then what. Where would I be, who would I be, what would I be? I will never know, and neither will you.
sounds | just skin (Songza playlist) feels | romantic daydreams
Kinda wish my thermos wasn't so good at insulating. My hands could use a boost this cold autumn (Mon)day. Time to crank up the determination! I'm behind in studies (understatement) and traveling this weekend is just another wrench in the mix. Mind you, I love going away but the expectation to be constantly studying really puts a damper on things. sound | night time (the xx) feels | it's another week, need I say more random | little poo turds I see everywhere - pick up after your dogs!
does it rain where you are. distant and unreachable; ever changing, alone.
question: you lift, why?
reply: so i can carry my groceries home every week
review
sep 22 2013
—-
livejournal was the hawt stuff of the 2000’s when what, everyone had a xanga and myspace was the thing to have. then came facebook and twitter and instagram and tumblr and pinterest and people stopped posting words.
looking back, i was such a different person. so young and carefree, a bit mean, often bitchy, energetic with opinions and thoughts and the openness to express it.
i miss that person.
where are they now?
really wishing i kept up some sort of journalling project throughout the years. granted it’s such a chore but, like having your picture taken, it’s not for you now. it’s for you in the future when sitting at a stop sign you think, “how did i get here?”
a turn here, a turn there, and your younger self is just.. gone. now you live on coffee. now you have money to throw at frivolously useless things. now you are tied to a desk 9-5 M-F with shoulders permanently slumped from the weight of monotony.
well, that’s a pretty depressing way to re-start my journalling journey but there it is, my thoughts on my self-4-years-in-the-past. hopefully this new start will give me a boost, help me find my opinions again, help me out of my shell and start expressing who i am again. help me find myself.
now watch me spend the next 2 hours trying to download all my LJ entries from the last decade lol.
sound | love comes again (tiesto ft. BT)
feels | it’s cold. it’s cold. my ankles. my knees. winter is coming. autumn is officially tomorrow.
wow what suck is this, can i insert more than 1 line between paragraphs? solution: look in html mode and add this <p><code> </code></p>
Accomplishment