My Analysis of Her

There's one thing to regret the past and face forward, hard with changes of decision, heart and perspective. But then there's another option where one's pride of the past infiltrates their ability to correct their mistakes, in result this one person pretends all is well, when of course, nothing has been erased. Now, I love this girl dearly and just like everybody else in this world including myself, she isn't perfect, I know, but just like many others she's a proud bitch* when it comes to what she's "accomplished". Her many crazy stories of going to Kanye West, Ratatat and Girl Talk concerts tripping on acid, and smoking pot with strange homeless men have , have, yes, provided distastefully delicious insight but-- wait a minute-- are fucking dangerous and downright bat shit. There's no one more I dislike in this world, besides those inside the workings of the Bush administration, gangsters, boneless murders and clowns, than a name-dropper or in this case an event-dropper. I mean when you're walking down the road with her mother/my aunt whom I know not particularly well, just a few strides behind, why would you think now is the best time to display such information? Such information being; smoking pot with a completely homeless and completely random stranger. Awesome. Wow, I want be just like you (as bitterly sarcastic as I can possibly muster). So she claims to have given partying as much as she used to, meaning she stopped abusing ADD medications. She claims to have gotten back on her school work and claims to have changes everything, except for her addiction to cigarettes. She still smokes them as many chances as she can get. Maybe it's her way of getting away from the family, maybe she hates us. I don't want to sound cocky or self-absorbed, but I don't really think that's the case. My dad thinks it's just a phase, but a phase that slowly kills herself? When she finally showed her mother her wrists from eighth grade, they both cried, as I'm sure she had been crying after every pressing drag over her angelic skin. How's is this any different, besides the fact that we're all watching her or turning our heads as she walks behind the house or shed to light up another? How is it any different? Instead of a blade, nicotine, tar and all those other toxins a 2 millisecond google search can define. Her kid brother still repeats everything she says. Even if it isn't a joke. He still attempts to be as cool as she. Her dad who misses her after a separation of a max of ten hours, and who lights up every time his sparkling daughter enters his realm. Her mom who gets the ignored while she lights up, though who probably flinches or whose essence of life ebbs away just a single pulsation each time her child's lighter sparks. I'm going to be predictable and say that no one deserves such despicable treatment. No matter how good a gift you gave them each on Christmas; no matter how well you tidied your room that Saturday; no matter how hard you worked on your definitions essay; no matter any mild chore or routine you've built in to your schedule to accomidate their domestic needs. Nothing is good enough to counteract such suicide.

My wish

MY wish to find the parts in people that anger them, so I can feel happy. Yes utter happiness to me means that I am just like everyone else.

"Power shot"

Upon receiving an Annie Leibowitz book delighted with details of her inspirations, expectations and, of course, most beloved works, I have grown to realize what I want to spend at least half my life doing. And that is to discover, illuminate, and encapsulate the world around me through a lens. I believe at one point at the end of this escavade, I will grow tired of living through a tunnel and want to see things through my own eyes, not a machines', but for now, I plan on living through a lens. I feel like I've seen too much without a camera. Too much without documentation. It really is a bad habbit, you know, not strapping on a camera onto my back, hip or simply clutching it with a hand. Anything can possibly occur, or I could see something worth a snap. So why not carry around such an investment? But don't all do this. I am casually despensing this tid-bit of information just to tell you my plans. Plans, I am sure no one really cares about, but that is to me the best part; having a say in something that only matters to me. I am powerful.

Merry Christmas Eve, world. yeah, I would normally be one of those non-dominational people, but honestly, I am really excited and what else is happening tomorrow? besides us finally getting a crappy tree that we may not even keep for more than three days, or is another godawful rap video coming out tomorrow? I don't think so. I think that it will be the Eve of which I will give my sister, brother, mother, and dad their gifts, and it will have nothing to do with Jesus, because no one could really know when that damn child was born. All I know is, that people are depressed in the winter time because there is "like" NO SUN, ever! So when else would there be a huge, happy, colorful, soulful, giving, receiving holiday like Christmas. peace and love~ ivy

With words read to me, I feel sensational. just listen

With words read to me, I feel sensational. just listen

So many Questions

IF the earth is supposed to collapse into itself and then completely repeat what it had done before, would we be here again? Would I be a Hannah? Would I still want to call my children Gregory if I had them without my consent, because i honestly would rather adopt than have children, for the good of the world? That would be horrible, if it would all happen again! We would make all the same mistakes and all the on the other hand, the possibility of being with the same friends, the same family, the same bad habbits, the same toenails, the same cheaters, the same rapists, the same music, the same words, the same languages, the same LITTLE THINGS THAT DON'T MATTER? so this could be our fifth, sixth, or infinite round, yeah more like infinite.

How do people listen?

Who really isn't?

I HATE PEOPLE WHO DO THIS! Whenever they're wrong, and you're right they allude to you being a smart ass or to you not knowing something else. May I say, at least 79% of the time someone else knows more than I do. So just give me ONE moment of validity. Knowing that someone's always better than you, is pretty much my insecurity and reason for me to do anything; aka, for me to be in NAHS, or at least try to be in NFHS. So, I guess I don't do anything unless I want to feel better. So that's it. I'm selfish. I'm very very self-centered. but who isn't?

Smiles

I love the "I'm a star" pose!

Only in the City can...

house:

distinguish:

reflect: inspire

ignore:

acknowledge:

Voyager

Nature vs. Man

Celebrating Free Time and a Spare breath

Celebrating Everything; Bigger than You

If I Were

What if after death or life, we were stuck in a book? What if we were somehow stuck writing our own books? or What if we become characters in other peoples' books and were stuck waiting until every word or sentence we were mentioned. Like we wait in a white box, and the box walls would turns rainbow or crazy trippppppy colors (yes trippy with tripple the p's). If I were to teach a class I would try to simulate that.

doodle

so fun <3

What I consider worldy music, that which I currently adore.

• La vie en Rose: Mia Doi Todd- Of course. I know the song is that trite cliché type of vintage French music. But, I adore anything that comes from that country, even if it was the barbarians that burned down Rome in 463 avant notre ère. Mais, Je l'adore.
• I'm good, I'm Gone: Lykke Li- A very different genre from the vocal of Mia Doi Todd's cover, but, then again, Lykke Li is swedish. I love the music video, which I got FO FREE on iTunes, a few weeks back. In it she does this crazy dance that makes all her clothes jiggle and sway like a mad man.
• Tout Doucement: Feist- Going back to le Français, but Canadian. Tout Doucement actually means
• Savador: Jamie T- Jamie T is actually a favourite of Lily Allen. Worldly, I realize, doesn't really bring up the noises of British pop-singers, such as Jamie T.
• Knock 'em Out: Lily Allen- la même description
• Postcards from Italy: Beirut- I think this crazy dude's French. He doesn't sing in French, but some of his live stuff is in French so... Je ne sais pas. Also, this song is in my play and I ADORE IT!
• Homeless: Paul Simon- this song is partially sung in African
• Elias: Dispatch- la même description
• The Girl from Impanima: Stan Getz- shhhhhh just listen to it. Ecoutez-la.

I feel like it's too easy to be pessimistic; much harder to go the other way. I wish that was different. I don't sound very intelligent by saying that, I know, but there's another example of me being more pessimistic than optimistic. It's such a bummer, pessimism. In fact I would go as far to call it a DEBBIE DOWNER. wa wa wahhhh !

Nature

Do you think that some things just come naturally? I mean like writing or basketball or maybe even pole-dancing? The last one could be a stretch, or maybe not, but if your parents were good at their occupation, could they pass down that talent or interest to you? Yes, right? so perhaps we're naturally interested in art. sounds good to me.

Holy Ned. No Way. Really Really Really.

I meant to paint today.... I loved the tone of the fog outside.... but then my mom made me do my homework because I would be helping the play tomorrow.... I still haven't finised at 4:31. And the light is dying.... i hate not saving the daylight. On the flip side, I'm really really really really really excited... really really reallly..... reallly reallly. but really, I cannot wait until Thursday, Friday and Saturday, when my play (well, not just mine anymore now that I have six actors, a director, a light director, makeup artists and a producer.) is showing. No way. It is. My own play. holy ned.

Hmmph

Someone bitterly told me that the only reason why people have blogs is because they want to egotistically write about themselves. Well, that is true, but that's not the ONLY reason. I know I got one because it made me feel free, and now that I've had one for a year and then some, it feels too close to me to release. It would fall too hard from into the Earth. And people use them to display their art, lackluster, generic or magnifique. Whatever. But what I don't understand is why that person would say that if they knew I had one? Some people just want you to not like them.... hmmph.

Sentiments

Whispy

Rugged, opaque and Etse

Unicef Orange

Connection: Painter to The Painted

+

Honestly, it is hard to find something positive worth talking about these days. Well, not so hard, I guess; Obama won. But, there still is the annoying noise that no impact of a resolution will penetrate until much much later. Like children begging in the candy aisle; We want economic stability NOW! We want universal health care NOW! We want an ending to the Iraq war NOW! But none of that happens quickly, and they all feed into each other. Once we exit the East, our debt will stop growing, and our economy will heal back to hopefully what it used to be. And from there our government will be able to support the American people's health. But when? Like children tugging at their parents' pant leg, or business blouse; "When?" and only a negative nod is given back or a stream of puzzling words are uttered downward, or even "soon". Soon being one of the vaguest words I've ever heard. Soon could mean August of 2010, or tomorrow. Soon could be the antithesis of August of 2010, which in my opinion, is preposterous; how could that be soon? how is that soon? oh well. i guess. +

Should've Happened Sooner

Our callas heels have thawed,

and our brittle hands have stretched.

Our coiled limbs have uncoiled,

and our eyes no longer view what obfuscated dreams we were dreaming.

With our blue blood at a steady pace;

We have awakened.

Not only that

but our skeltal shoulders have risen,

and our cadervously weak bodies have detached themselves from

our molded matresses.

We still must cleanse, dress, detangle, and feed

ourselves.

But we stood.

just babysteps for now,

though sad,

for such an blessed nation.

this is now

90,000 people for just one man with his many ideas.

The beginning of the night

The middle

At the expected time

As the night grew longer......

Elle me sent mouvaise, mais bon de cela.

Straight From McCain~Palin website

"He knows that to protect our homeland, our interests, and our values - and to keep the peace - America must have the best-manned, best-equipped, and best-supported military in the world." Contradiction much?

I don't want to be like everybody else...... That's why I want to go to college FAR AWAY, where no one else is going, and I don't want to become a photographer, and I want to move to Europe and have the option of NEVER COMING BACK. CREATING a NEW life where all the same people reappear just in different bodies and a different setting. Could that even be possible; I don't know. i also love scaring myself.

Lately

Even though people say time and time again "I respect your opinion" I think they're mixing up these letters with other ones, because they usually don't. Or at least they don't even want to hear your other opinion. For this person's it's either the right opinion (hers) or the wrong one, which is already an oxymoron. For someone so liberal it's hard to digest this.

Give it A listen

"My dream is to walk around the world. A smallish backpack, all essentials neatly in place. A camera. A notebook. A traveling paint set. A hat. good shoes. A nice pleated (green?) skirt for the occasional Seaside hotel afternoon dance." ~ William Strunk & E.B White (Author) (*author of the book Principles of Uncertainty) (**the book Mrs. Mitchell gave me) et toi?

Night Memoires

WTF: TOO MUCH IRONY

Such a small mouse's voice has so much to give to the world. It's almost as though that singular is bigger than those whom are actually larger. For example, someone who can't even vote that I know has more of an opinion than many I know can. That's what I love about America and what I hate about some stubborn people in America. They don't realize this gift our "founding fathers" gave us. Plus, I feel like those people are the ones that complain about our government more than those who actually attempt to change it. WHAT THE FUCK! ?

I've Been Freakin' OUT lately.

I wish this school system didn't destroy me and others like me as much as I feel it has done. It really has dwindles my self-confidence which is what I wanted to gain most of all in high school. Who likes themselves in Middle school? I know I didn't. I never wanted that feeling again, but when I got to high school, at least for a while, not so much anymore, but still I felt WORSE! IT SHOULDN'T be like that! It makes me so angry what just six hours in seven different desks can do to my mind. Sometimes, I consider asking my parents for pills or something to take to help me feel better during the day. I shouldn't have to take something to make me feel confident just because I don't compare to anyone. I don't really want to, but sometimes I just feel so hopeless. The system is so corrupt. I don't want to become a carbon copy of everyone grand. Because no one is grand.

A Favorite French Posted Secret

"J'essaie de relier ma vie aux paroles des chansons autant que possible" translation: I try to link up my life with the words of songs as many as possible Me: I love how it applies, even though I'm American. (americain)

Meryl Streep Quote

When describing acting she says; "And the worth is in listening to people who maybe don't even exist or voices in your past and through you come through the work and you give them to other people. I think that giving voices to characters that have no other voice is the great worth of what we do." she's officially my favorite actor, besides the fact that no matter what she's in she puts (as my dad says) her "best foot forward" and "finishes strong", she has an opinion and thinks for herself. Yeah, she's a baller.

"All mankind is divided into three classes: those that are immovable, those that are movable, and those that move."--- Benjamin Franklin. I'll elaborate later on how I feel, although it's pretty hard to refute this.

This Here Pod. . .

Someone asked me why I don't delete the songs I don't listen to anymore, from my Ipod. I'm not going to do that. Never. I'm not going to erase anything. My phases of music interact with my moods and I have never stayed in one mood for longer than a day. Why would I erase something I would need to soothe me? or something that would solve my loneliness. Why? My songs also parallel to my age. I don't make photo albums anymore, I have my Ipod.

Why take a foreign language or visit a foreign country?

A new country is a new perspective; a new culture to soak in with new issues and new pages full of new words in a new day's life. All things to discover and ponder to reflect ones own country. To take a foreign language is to breech from, in this case, the American mold and inplant yourself into the world's. You then become not just a person of you're country, but a person of the world. Like a pomegranite.

New Shapes from Something Old

Mood: Serenity Tone: Carefree Metaphor: Every simple motion under its surface displayed by its broken reflection of surroundings.

Memoir: Much

I don't quite remember the date, or how tall I was. But I definitely remember the silent drive from my grandma's house to the church. I'm sure Granddad posthumously pesters her for not giving him up to science. I don't remember what I wore or what anyone else did. I do remember, though, wanting to sit down, alone. Everyone was all over me. I know they cared and I respected them for that. But still, I just wanted to breathe, exactly what Granddad couldn't do anymore. Perhaps that was why he had had that heart attack those five years ago, because of our family. Great. We solved the mystery. That might have been the worst part of all; not knowing why it happened. It wasn't really the constant crying from my parents, siblings, and assortment of relatives. Nor the awkward empty room that Grandma assigns us to sleep in every time we visit. We still call it "Granddad's office". Yes, it was the fact that a 68 year old man who walked about two miles a day with no heart health concerns had had a heart attack while away on a business trip. It was unfathomable. From the moment Grandma asked me to touch the body that once sheltered Granddad, I was trampled. Nothing seemed hopeful; I was completely choked with no mercy. My last breath of innocence, more so ignorance, was taken away, and from then on no more excuses were accepted. I was now forced to understand that everyone was programmed to die leaving their bodies only with a slight deformity to their absences. So as I turned away practically puking and in wonderment, I began to cry for numerous reasons besides the one at hand. I cried knowing I would be somewhere like this on a similar occasion but the empty body would be my mom's, dad's, brother's and sister's. On top of that, I would be alone without them, if all goes according to birth rate. I know it would be cutting my life short if, for some reason, I would die preemptively to my time, but on the contrary, it would be a relief, right? Being only a cowardly mortal human, of course, my first inclination was to surrender; never to fight. But my cowardice working with me, for once, persuaded me to continue. It would have been a little much, I suppose.

Free Verse: New Walk

The silk-threaded robes, though palliating their figures, accentuated every motion of their bodies; every fraction of light caught by every twitch, sway or sudden thrust of their legs juggling the torso above on thin sticklike platforms bulging their bilious heels. This contracted their arms To rock placidly about in the rhythm of their body. Each step; A strong sway into the future Obfuscating the past.

Dream: How is the Water?

My vapid hands grasp the bucket bellow me In attempt to carry Its weight. I thrust the handle upward, The bucket quakes with sympathy for my poor excuse of strength. In frustration, I attempt again But this time the bucket rattles from side to side mocking me while the ring of water that lay comfortably under the rusted steel edges, saunters over the side onto my bare feet. My eyes peel open In wonderment; Was the water cold, hot or just fine?

I Never Want Them to End

Every Sunday I read Frank Warren's post secrets, like millions of other people, I'm sure. Each time I feel like a better person. Perhaps it's the fact that it's something I actually enjoy reading. But perhaps it's because reading them makes me feel more connected to the world. FIN

Regina..... Regina..... Regina...... when's that swong gonna start???

"When he get's to the crowded subway platform, he takes off both of his shoes, steps right into somebody's fat lugey and everyone who sees him says "ew". Everyone who sees him says "EW!" But he doesn't care cuz last night he got a visit from the ghost of corperate Future. The Ghost that take off both your shoes whatever chances it get, especially when their wet, he also said; imagine you go away on a business trip one day. When you come back home; your children have grown and you've never made your wife mown. Your children have grown and you've never made your wife mown. People make you nervous. You think the world is ending, and everybody's features have somehow started blendin. And everything is plastic, and everyones sarcastic. And all your food is frozen and needs to be defrosted. You'd think the world was ending, you'd think the world was ending. You'd think the world was ending right now! You'd think the world is ending! You'd think the world was ending! You'd think the world is ending! You'd think the world was ending! Well maybe you should just drink a lot less coffee and never ever watch the 10:00 news. Maybe you should kiss someone nice; a lick a rock or both. Maybe you should cut your own hair cuz that would be so funny. It doesn't cost any money. And it always grows back, it grows even after you're dead. People are just People they shouldn't make you nervous. The world is everlasting; it's comin and it's goin." ~ Regina Spektor

A Little Bit About Me

As I've grown through layers of interests, I've come to conclusions of what I long to do after college has passed by. As a kid, I wanted to become an artest. Yes, an artest. I couldn't spell well, so my teachers constantly corrected me, but I never took to spelling artist as it should be. Sometime during fifth grade after I won third place in a poetry contest, I decided I should spend my days writing poetry. Around the time of Middle school, I decided a writer would suffice. in eighth grade I tried writing a book. Wow, I was naive. I did reach 100 pages, and I did end it. But the poor plot loops and reoccurring misspelling of the word "coma" had no future in publishing. Entering Dulaney High School, I found myself fascinated with others' feelings and thoughts. I envisioned myself sitting at a couch taking notes from some one's life shpeel. After that phase, my artestry found an easier and more welcoming to my excessive laziness medium; photography. I still work the cam cam now and then. At the current moments, I long for a video camera, and want to show the rebuttle to photography, if that rings true. Although my life has changed so much since that revelation of a therapeutic future, I can't help but wonder how all these estranged hobbies of mine will mix. I hope none are ignored.

I Hope To Always Remember It.

Dear Violethush~ What can I say, I wasn't expecting that to be said, not gonna lie. I almost never hold myself high, that sounds a bit morbid, but I mean I constantly judge myself and I'm doing it as I write actually. You probably actually do have some sort of idea as to how it makes me feel that someone just as brilliant and talented as you put me in such a spectrum. Thank you. Once we we talked about post secret, and I said I was making one to send in. Well, first off, I never did send that one. More importantly thougth, you asked me if the secrets I was making were things I haven't told you, and I said yes they were things you weren't aware of. Your post reminded me of this because I feel too vulnerable or at least not complete enough to let people know certain things about me, not so much anymore, but still as a lingering fear I don't always tell people things. My second inclination is because sometimes I want to feel smarter and the only way is to hide things from people, so only I can know them, and they can't. That's a bit overly dramatic for my taste, so maybe it isn't how I feel. Who knows? Take what you must and do it as you will.Thank you for listening. . . ... .. Formally, Ribbon

A New Meaning

I didn't use to know what Love meant. I tagged it as superficial and Corny. But that was only because I hadn't experienced it in the way I was looking for it. I thought you needed someone to makeout with you or dance with you at a dance. Strange thing is I don't believe myself when I say that nor did I when I thought it. A love to me is simply someone who smiles when they see you for it's their why of giving something to you everyday. This may sound a bit Ersatz, but they surround me with goodness for at least a millisecond. On another note, I feel as everyone is so beautiful in their ways of getting to their inner core. How can one just limit themselves to only one beauty. I'll take it all.

"And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make."

I only hope this is true so that all the evils in the world will finally collapse. And by evils I mean those people who don't understand what the letters L,O,V,E conveniently spell.

To Be Free

My worries: Dying before I don't know who I am. Waking up one day and realizing it's too late to do something. Though most of the time there is something that can replace it or you can do. In this case it would be if I ever surpass 80 or even 75. Sometimes I have vivid dreams of myself running around a house searching for something I never end up finding. I just hope I don't wake up and realize I wanted that baby, I wanted that man, or I wanted that oppurtunity for a job I didn't think I wanted but really did. That leads me to my fear of regretting something I did, or never did. That must be one of my biggest fears and I know I'm not alone.

In Jack Alton's 1,001 dreams, he states; "bathing in a relaxing location can symbolize a desire to float again in the mother's womb."

Can this mean that we as humans have known what's it's been like to relax from the moment we breached into the world? Perhaps we even as infants knew when we were tense and when we were loose. Now that I think about it I completely agree: we would cry when we were the slightest bit uncomfortable, I'm sure, and we would smile or just act content when we would be relatively happy. It is fascinating how sensitive we were and how we slowly break into this world, step by step, hardening our souls.