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[Oct 13 2008 / 2:37pm] |
I love oranges so fucking much. I am going to try and eat more raw/"living food".
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[Oct 11 2008 / 8:54pm] |
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I'm alive. Hi from normal guy world.
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| Hi I'm writing a novel, I need some motivation :) |
[Oct 11 2008 / 12:31pm] |
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"Aside from the pink satin cloth that draped and met at the middle of the ceiling a hundred feet above, I, who wore black amongst a sea of white, am evidently MISPLACED. What makes me more misplaced is the pathetic fact that I am the only one wearing a dress made of satin. If I exist in a world with less conceited people, I wouldn't even take notice of that fact. Ritually I give myself a reality check. I happen to be the stepdaughter of the sister of a wife of a big-deal businessman who happens to be mutually in love with the media. And what's worst? Charmeuse had to be the 'in' cloth for today’s wedding. Not wearing it now, not having it cut above the knees or at least showing a little bit of cleavage, would be the least desirable situation to be in. And most obviously, I am wearing something that is not Charmeuse, not white, not short...enough and bears no cleavage in sight. Maybe I'll get extra points for wearing stunning gold Jimmy Choo sandals or maybe not. Either way, if I weren’t the sister of the bride I would have been kicked out of the cathedral seconds before I could set my ‘Jimmy Choo’-s on the red carpet. When I was younger my head would start spinning at moments like this, but I suppose that age is like a number that shows how much tolerance you have to how much slamming you get from the world because of the things it hates about you." --- "The Heaven of Zaria" a snippet of Chapter One.
I've decided to finally finish a novel that I have started. I've always had problems finishing stories that I write because I always search for motivation and I tend to lack it when I need it the most. :) I hope posting that would interest you to read it more, you can find it in my livejournal page http://heavenofzaria.livejournal.com Thanks :)
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| Pity Post |
[Oct 09 2008 / 7:12pm] |
Things amy is unable to do:
- hold a conversation
- eat normally
- lose weight
- leave the house
- learn
- pass tests
- be a friend
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| a possibility |
[Oct 08 2008 / 10:34am] |
When Nate slammed on his breaks, it seemed that the gravitational pull affected everything in the car besides him. His lawyer's stack of papers flew to the dashboard, while his coffee sloshed to the surface of his lid and his seatbelt groped his man-tits through the baby blue shirt. A black taurus behind him swerved up and around, and after that, all time had stopped.
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"Lach is coming over at seven, I need you to skidaddle."
"What?"
"I told you yesterday, Lach."
"Yes, but I wasn't aware I was leaving."
"Is it a big deal? Sorry, stupid of me. We can just go out. I forgot Max was out of town."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean? Max isn't my only friend, first off. I have places to go, I just don't understand why I can't come. Why can't I come with you and Lach?"
"Oh, well, you can come. No one said you couldn't."
"No. No, I'm not going. Now I feel like the fucking little brother who has to come because he cried about it."
"Whatever. I'll be upstairs."
--------------
"Nate? Nate!"
When he finally came to, the traffic in front of him had moved a good one hundred feet and the cars flew past and in front of like the landing planes. But something was missing.
"Where did that truck go, Larry?"
"What truck?"
"The green one that was a couple cars in front of us."
"Uh, I don't know. Maybe it turned left or something, I think."
After cutting off an old man in a Mazda and manuevering a swift left-on-red, the truck was finally back in sight.
Stein Co.
"What's with the truck, Nate?"
"See that name? My girlfriend is fucking that guy, right now."
"What?"
"I mean, my ex-girlfriend. Stein is fucking my ex-girlfriend."
As they drove at a perfect parallel, he honked his semi-silent horn, surprisingly grabbing the attention of a blonde bearded man driving, sandwich in hand.
"That's Stein?"
"No, of course not. They are never the pussy college kids that I could make cry in the parking lot. Of course not." Larry looked at Nate, noticing the wild glare in his eyes, as he lifted one solitary finger to the innocent kid driving the truck and honked another time or two.
The kid looked initially shocked for a half a second until he shrugged his shoulders and continued to eat his sandwich as Nate cut him off to flip him off once more.
"Do you feel better now?"
"Oh, you have no idea."
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| J is for jonesin |
[Oct 08 2008 / 6:03pm] |
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He said,”The only guy who will love you is the guy you will treat like shit.”
We were under the bridge, doing a U-turn. I forgot to charge my cellphone battery. It was early in the morning. I saw stars in the shy colors of the pink sky. The rain played games; it stopped and almost immediately started again. My umbrella was pink and yellow. He had no socks on.
The air was cold and clammy, like a palm.
Everybody in the world had a friend like J. The kind of guy you used like tissue, and wonder why you didn’t fall in love with him when you knew you should. He wasn’t my type. He made the mistake of letting me know. Our eyes met in the cafeteria and I thought, “Hmm. This is interesting.”
He remembered my birthday early in the morning. He drove all the way to my uni, and drove all the way back in the same day. He gave me flowers in the middle of an empty parking lot, just us surrounded by miles of painted yellow parking boxes. He dropped hints on interracial marriages.
He thought I was prettier than the girls in Spain, how about that. He wrote to me the whole time he was there, how beautiful it was watching the bullfight, the hundreds of sketches he drew, inspired.
He had an American Express card. He told me about his mom and his stepmom. I wish I had listened more.
Today I sit on the desk with my journal in my hand, today I stand in line to get my coffee ready, today I type in the dark with my cat beside me, and I think of all the Js in the world, I think of Ice-Cream marketing ploy, or beef burgers and licking your elbows, and almost all of them has a taste of J in it. You can call it guilt, and affection.
I wouldn’t change this for the world.
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[Oct 07 2008 / 2:27pm] |
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music |
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dropkick murphys - boys on the docks (repeat repeat repeat) |
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I think I might do this ![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif) mission101 thing again and actually take it seriously. After the exam today, which I did not do too great on, I thought "Yessssssss, one more exam and then school is basically over!". But what now? What do I do now? Wake up in the afternoon? Spend my days baking food I do not eat? Look at people's apartments on the internet? This is getting really sad. I am so unbleivably lazy. Any ideas on self motivation? Anything? Something for me to do? FUCK
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[Oct 06 2008 / 9:15pm] |
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I used to be the master when it comes to wordsplay.
Every word must be carefully coated with sarcasm or lined with intended humiliation
They must be sharp enough to pierce through the very core of your soul.
I seem to win every possible match in Hell.
But right where I'm standing, people would just discard me looks of condemn.
I've been labelled all sorts of things, really.
I grew tired of it and decided to take matters in my own hands.
Here we go, I said.
So I took white linens and started twirling them around.
I started from my neck and work my way up
I made sure they were wrapped neatly and tightly,
(but most importantly, tight)
After all we wouldn't want any mishap to happen, would we?
Then, I stopped one inch short before the tip of my nose.
There, all done.
Soon, I find it hard to breathe
My throat seems to be on fire.
But I like it this way,
Reminds me of home in a way.
Just my words and I,
lost in my very own intricate maze.
Just my words and I.
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[Oct 06 2008 / 8:24pm] |
I didn't get the traineeship and it was really no surprise. They other applicants were all already going to TAFE doing courses to get jobs like that. One of the guys who did had finished his Advanced Diploma and the other was 3/4's of the way through it.
So, now I don't know what to do. This has actually given me time to think like I though I wanted.
I'm too indecisive and LAZY to succeed at anything.
What to do what do to what to do
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[Oct 05 2008 / 7:28pm] |
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[Oct 05 2008 / 12:57am] |
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music |
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"paper planes" MIA |
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Do normal people have this problem? It is never a good moment for me when at parties I realize I am sober and that there is shitty music playing. Nothing will ever make me so nostalgic that I want to listen to Britney Spears. Ever. NOTHING. I want to have a "Britskank" party (which is a Kaiser Chiefs joke) at which I will play only awesome and tacky British music. Maybe my guilty pleasure music has just been displaced culturally, so I find playing Lady Sovereign in public totally acceptable. Or Oasis. Oh goodness, I could have an entire party based around the genius of the Gallaghers.
In better news, the first episode of the new Never Mind the Buzzcocks is on YouTube. Praises be! If Simon Amstell were not a gay man I would be trying to convince him to marry me. Although, it's not like that hasn't stopped me in the past.
My birthday is coming up. Gross. Can I pretend to not have one? I wouldn't care about getting older except for a Few Things I have yet to accomplish. Throwing myself at my education to the point of not having any fun most of the time has clearly been a complete Waste of My Time, considering that I have no social skills and also didn't get Phi Beta Kappa. Am feeling remarkably unremarkable. My life is moving too fast. I can't believe I lived in Edinburgh a year ago. The years are falling by like rain.
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[Oct 05 2008 / 3:25pm] |
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they sway.
the old ones - the livers, the breathers, the protectors - they sway in the wind that sings only for them.
smile love - can you see them?
go now. dance, dance, dance for them - dance with them.
be alive.
(if only just for today)
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[Oct 04 2008 / 7:23pm] |
i'm giving up and not giving in:
it's almost safe,
almost sanitary.
two words: play dead.
for serious, play dead and your hands on my
face and closer closer the script calls for love, and us,
well,
we're faking it.
but 21st century romance:
did you expect any different?
(bleeding hearts and smoking guns;
don't pretend you're so special.)
the TEXAS state line looms
closercloser
(the script calls for change
and this is the same, i guess.)
the radio crackles and pops--
rice krispies cereal!
special prize inside!
--and the roof of the car
collects
smoke, dust, and a little spider.
the script calls for something new;
vultures pick at your flesh, your scattered bones.
the script calls--
your line is DEAD.
somewhere somewhere
the ocean's cold
and your white hands
(float).
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| BODY FAT SCALE |
[Oct 04 2008 / 1:24pm] |
I bought a new scale today. It tells me body fat and water. I have 57 pounds of water!!
I'm 22.0% body fat right now. I'm actually okay with this. Because:
If I weigh 125 pounds, and 22 percent of that is fat, that means I have 27.5 pounds of fat. I have 34 C cup breasts, also. So, if I lose 15 pounds (about my goal) I SHOULD (if i don't lose muscle mass) only have 12.5 pounds of body fat.. and everyone needs a little sumtin sumtin, yeah?
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[Oct 05 2008 / 12:27am] |
( & )
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[Oct 02 2008 / 4:37pm] |
Name: Mandi
Age: 19
What ED you have*:EDnos
Height: 5'3"
High Weight: 185
Current Weight: 110
Low Weight: 110
Pictures of your progress (behind a cut):
Picture heavy...
( some NSFW i think )
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[Oct 02 2008 / 9:19pm] |
Age 19
What ED you have*: Anorexia
Height: 5'8
High Weight: 141lbs
Current Weight: Unsure
Low Weight: 86lbs
I havent weighed in a while, I will repost with my weight once I know it. I have had anorexia for nearly 10 years, and have gone up and down weightwise following treatment. I came out of inpatient earlier this year and relapsed heavily at the beginning of june. The weightloss in these pictures is over a period of 12 weeks
( 18 PICTURES UNDER CUT... )
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| Can I just say Future Serial Killer? |
[Oct 03 2008 / 8:03pm] |
A 7-year-old boy in Australia broke into a zoo and fed approximately 13 small animals to the zoo's crocodile. Yeah.
Embedded video from CNN Video
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[Oct 03 2008 / 12:20pm] |
File Folders
I am autonomous. There is a divide between you and me
that’s as clear as glass, as impassable as the Great Wall, as
unspoken as your fascination with the woman on the train
whose face is splashed with wine. This is Berlin to the GDR,
but the lines blur. We are autonomous. Can two people be autonomous?
If two objects move in opposite paths at the same speed their equations look
the same. It is unbreakable, it’s physics and history and art, maybe Camus,
you’d argue nihilism (if you knew what that meant). And I’d argue
it’s a little more Beckett, because nothing makes sense but it does. It does
if you listen. It does if you know what you’re listening for. But fuck science, fuck art,
fuck things that have already happened because this is new and fresh and real.
(This is not true.) This is creaking floorboards that don’t let you sneak in; this is
the burn you know will leave a scar; this is the headache in the morning that won’t
stop shouting about what you did the night before. This is unforgivable.
This is unforgettable. This is the backhand your aunt says at Christmas after five
drinks—this is having such a pretty face—this is inevitable. This is the thing that
travels between your heart your lungs and gut that shits despair and anger and
violence—this is violence!—and love and illness and things they haven’t even
named yet. This is trying to digest it. This is pretending to be blind and deaf and
dumb. This is not an Oscar worthy performance. This is Mary-Sues
and Angsty Sues and Canon Sues and Gary Stus and their books that no one will read.
This is bullshit. I am autonomous, and this is the boy who grew two feet in summer
and now can’t stop bumping into things.
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| post-secondary |
[Oct 03 2008 / 1:52pm] |
[subtitle: what kind of fuckery is this?]
You know, I might need to make some executive decisions about what work I actually do this weekend, because this is getting fucking ridiculous. I don't understand the Bowdoin mentality of assigning a lot of reading and homework; the result is that none of it gets done properly. If I had half as much to do, I would do it thoroughly. I mean this is what I have to do this weekend (and I need to make time to go to Freeport because I am apparently going to the Mitchell Institute Gala and need to buy shoes):
Italian (which would not be so bad if I actually spoke Italian... my whole class is in the same boat)
[subtitle: Dammit, Giovanni! 205]
Io Non Ho Paura pg 47-61 & questions (There are usually five and this week there are 11.)
Critical article (it is like 20 pages WTF)
actually learn the grammar
Joyce seminar
Finish Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (I have read like forty pages)
read Valente article
1-page paper (it's a "spatial exercise"; use the paper any way we want, but it can only be one page. I'm writing about narrative strategy and "A Little Cloud." And I need sources.)
Sociology
read the text part of Goffman's Gender Advertisements
data for term project
read articles for project
annotated bibliography
Not to mention my honors project. I had done nothing on it since last week until last night. I'm meeting with my adviser at 3.00. I think I'm ahead of the game but who knows. She is a new mom so she is probably feeling frazzled as well. The problem is that rehearsal is taking over my life (three hours of it a night, generally, except when I have work or class, which is when I get my ASM to step in), I work 16 hours a week, and so I have no time/brain power during the week to get anything done.
On that note, you should watch A Vision of Students Today. Michael Wesch is a digital ethnographer and his videos are wicked cool. The Machine is Us/ing Us blew my mind; it's like Jacques Derrida, Ferdinand de Saussure, and Michel Foucault having a drunken party on the Internet.
Update The Italian textbooks for my class FINALLY came in from Italy. & they are $30 more than quotes. Yes, my friends, I just paid $90 for a textbook I only get to use for half the semester.
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