Culture.

March 25, 2010

I think i’ll always be tired, filtered. I want to do good. I’ve been so obviously self destructive. I have this silly strange energy to help the world, so over-done and modern, but I’m certainly not a nihilist. Just obsolete.

I’ll always feel like science, not matter how hard I try to shake it.

I’ve decided

January 4, 2010

To write tonight. I’ve read some older entries, they’re not as bright as I remember.  I think that everytime I decide to encourage a change in character, I decide to write it down. I once wrote “I am an American, and It does not bother me that industries poison me everyday”.  I’ve also wrote about how I never wanted to do psychedelics in order to keep a pure brain. I’m almost positive these two ideas of mine contradict each other some how. Actually, I’m not even sure where this is going. Being poisoned by society, and keeping a pure mind. My body certainly is impure, with the years of marb reds, fast food, and whiskey. I’ve been thinking about spirituality and consequence, in the most non-religious way. I’ve been thinking about narcissism and image and honesty, and if art is just a compilation of all of it, and I never write anymore because I dont want to be a part of that. I’ve been wondering if i’m open minded at all, or if i’m even a free spirit. And how I criticize art and artist and people. And I wonder if i’m evolving …or if no one else is. I think to be an artist, you have to be involved so deeply in your own mind, and that somehow that is a fault in character, and to be a patron of the arts is equally as narcissistic. I see beauty in being natural, and being good, and being a part of the world instead of trying to demand individuality. It reminds me of a man named Rosenthal, and his words in “How can I not be among you”. Which is more about life and death, and moments, and living in them, with no consequence, past, or future.

i know

August 11, 2009

that i am talking to myself, and that its hard to type with a cigarette.

sometimes I feel like I should let people read this. but I dont feel profound or moving, or social. Tonight he and I drank some wine and talked about drugs I never did. And how wearing a fannypack doesnt make you cool, and my friend is pissed at me for talkin shit about ripping of the past, and how if I was about psychodeilics I would either lose it or write a novel.

“The truth is, I am just some passing event that will be forgotten”

I havent

July 6, 2009

said a word.. Fourth of July was always my favorite.

 

 

I was dressing like Tina Turner back then, you were crying in the passenger seat.

 

“Wrestle me, you prick”.

I never have anything original to say. I guess I fit in with my peers and their thrift store sweaters and dressing like they’re on vacation in Orlando, Florida in ‘1992.

I’m going to be plane jane for the rest of my days.

April 28, 2009

I said to myself, “this is going to be a sad one” with my hands on my chest and my knees on the ground. I can’t apologize for being a handful. I dont think of mylself as one of those people with trust issues, but my god I fucking should be.

I havent decided if acknowledgment is part of the healing process.

uh.

April 22, 2009

I miss new york. I miss bein cute too

banks

banks

its only the internet.

April 20, 2009

Its hott out now but I’m still squishy and pale. I’m not going to wear a leather jacket once this summer and I’m going to drink less beer and soda. I might go as far as to get highlights. The other night I got drunk and when I woke up my facebook status said “Suck as fuck” and I had a long detailed message from my aunt about how embarassed and ashamed of myself I should be. And how so many hard working people will be offended by it, and that its about time I become a modern day woman. From what I’ve learned modern day women say fuck more often then not. Normally, a message like this would have set me into a funk of re-evaluating my personality for a few days. But quite frankly, I am proud of myself. I’m not slutty or vile, and most girls my age are but it’s disguised with a tan and a textbook. I guess the worst things about me are that I am lazy and shameless. And a little judgemental, but completely open minded all at once. And although i’ve become a little unmotivated and apathetic about progressing in general, I’m hardly stagnant when it comes to absorbing the experiences I’ve had recently, even though they might not include semesters and whats accepted as being a healthy well-being. I havent written a paper in years and going back to school this summer will be interesting, but whatever its just motions and I will take from it what I want.

 

All in all, I’m just trying to prove my self to an electric collection of bullshit.

get a job.

March 13, 2009

First of all it was a fucktstorm trying to even log into this thing. I had to pee and lost my train of thought. I was watching a collection of movies that were inspiring, and thats how it always is. Sometimes movies are so smart and I see something in the background that I love, like a joy division poster or billy record. I love cristina from the late 80’s. I want to be cool and have a shitty city apartment with a bunch of shitty records I dont listen to. Its just so shitty that I can never come up with some beautiful, and clever thing. I watched a movie called 2 days in paris. It was on of those artsy films that make you want to be bilingual and drink dark dry red wine. I also watched superbad tonight, which is another one of those movies that piss you off, like the kind that makes you want to be a cop or make you want to go back to highschool and be cooler or something. Smart people never have anything good to say. And most people who base their life on being smart, the ones that went to college and got an education, why do they always talk about philosophy and downtown? Why do they always talk about the weather over coffee? Its like being smart is some terrible mind game. I guess being smart is more an image then a lifestyle. I guess I’ve been over it for a very long time. Probably since the day I realized I wasn’t…

.

March 3, 2009

Important people, have important things to say?

 

I had a dream about atlantic city, and ship taxis.

& A tattoo, something again about a hawaiin plane crash..

 

I think you’re cute with your shoes and you’re cheese dip.

type

March 3, 2009

I’ve felt like writing for so long now, but nothing feels original anymore. Somehow, I’ve been filtered and unsure. And I never notice pretty things anymore. I never go for walks, or sit on the porch, or beg for summer. I think I need one of those nights. Maybe I just need to be buzzed in the passenger seat, listening to The Shins again. Theres something about car rides on a warm nights, its always been comforting to me.

I’ve been thinking about painting too,  I just love the idea. I like to think about what I’ll paint, and how it will come out, and how I would end up hating it. I always thought the things I painted were elementary and not very moving, I guess thats why I stopped. I never had the patience or hands of  a real artist. I always give up halfway and never think about it again. Although, I think the room we painted together this winter is fantastic, and I am proud of it & I do think its moving. Its a mess now, and its littered with beer cans and price tags, pens and mail.

Its been a long time since I’ve read a good book. But I hate reading, I’m always disconnected and reading the wrong books. I can’t remember the last book I read, but I think it was about a transexual who lived in New York. Sometimes I write myself little notes and keep them in my purse until they get disguisting  & they always do, covered in make-up and tobacco from broken cigarrettes and lipstick. I found a note today that said “Me? I got wings.”  I think I wrote down when I was drunk in the basement of a bar. I dont remember if I was being sarcastic or sincere. I had probably been serving buffalo wings that entire night.

 I wish I was smart like Vonnegut, then I wouldnt have to worry about being clever. And I would know where time goes.

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