Beaches and Fishing with Uncles

That the coast was a sad place for me yesterday
It's not always like that - sad
That a place so infinitely beautiful could let me feel melancholy
and also, me kicking myself - how could you be sad right now?
when its windy and there's no one to hold me
It puts me in a daze,
my mind elsewhere and my gaze nowhere
and I day-dream of who you are, and when you'll come around
When you'll travel to different beaches with me, not confined to one continent
You can keep up, and I can slow down
All that joy observed of people loving and being loved on the sand, in the waves
and I feel so small, and ever-so lonely
The beach always makes me sad in the same ways holidays and family vacations do
I long for a love of my own, someone to be on my level and make this actually enjoyable, instead of supposedly enjoyable
It's probably unrealistic to think that I should be glowing happy every time I see the beach, now that I live there - is this what growing up feels like?



___________________________________


but this morning was different
I was an amatuer let in on a professional world
I was treated like a local
and i acted like I knew what i was doing
i was let in on this grand thing
a man's fishing world
one where they can be raw, untamed smokers
there they dont have to say anything
there they answer to no one but mother nature
in a sense they are all man
in another sense they are all boy
i saw them in a different light, they let me in on the one thing that gives them great pleasure
oneness with nature and themselves
if only women had the outlet that fishing provides men
if only
I was accepted in, and I ate donuts and drank black coffee with the salty veterans
I was raw
for a minute I forgot about all things womanly that keep you tied into this bodily caller, answering to your aches, pains and primps
being a woman is painful, weighty, and burdensome
but if you can for a minute, leave all of your baggage in one place, and go free
no hair, no makeup, no ovaries - just for two hours at 5 in the morning, barefoot on a dowdy beach
you find yourself raw
painless, present, un-pre-occupied

Don't forget what its like to be young

Maybe it's my new surroundings,
in a city-state that lingers on an "eat your heart out" aire of  has-been youth
These beaches were once beautiful, clean and safe
And now they are worn and forgotten.
Only the plush beaches survive and you haven't made it until you have the best of the best

Remember the nights when your friends went out, and you felt like you were going to miss an important social opportuinty?
Remember the feeling of being unallowed
Remember boredom and people telling you 'no'
Remember when you wanted to see your favorite bands but they told you no
Remember when you missed out

Remember when you stayed sober and saved your money
Remember when you were ready to be 21 when you were 16
Remember getting ahead of yourself, and into a lot of trouble
Remember waiting
Waiting to turn a certain age, to act a certain way, and do certain things.
Don't forget the first half of your life, the one you anticipated the second half of your life.
Don't give up youth for a life of car payments, loans and rent and dating, bars and stationary life.
Don't give up on the spirit you were born with, and the desire to move and move and be the best you can
Don't get tired or bored, and if you do, change it right away.
Don't be afraid to love unconditionally and fearlessly
Don't be afraid to let someone love you back.
Get tattoos, and don't worry about the implications, people wil like you anyways, and if they don't, their loss.
Keep your edge,
Don't listen to different music for other people
Remember where you came from:  Mountains, trees, punk rock and instruments
when you feel like shit, take it outside and let your mother take counsel


A letter to my future self,
stay weird,

desirée

Transient me

Every time I tell a friend that I'm moving, I feel like I let them down a little
that they may think they weren't enough, or I can do better
The hardest part about changing everything is affecting other people
I love these people, I do
There are things that come by during this process of disconnecting from this place: a past crush, a roommate, an ex-coworker, a new friend
it's like the immediate feeling you get after you jump off of a cliff - you know you'll be fine, but an instinct of yours changes your mind about the jump and wants to worm around to grab the ledge for safety, and redress.
But I persist.
That once upon a mountain top, where I feel most at home and myself
this decision came about, to stir shit up and get what I need out of this age

The decision to stop being side-tracked during this life because my heart is elsewhere.  To go find my heart, make peace with it, and then come back to the life I knew, or a new life, and be there.
This, I am doing for myself.  After years of making other people my priority (un-regretting), I'm escaping alone, me and this large universe, to hash it out.  The same universe that would throw a bear in my path, just to make sure that past the bear is where I really want to be.  This time, the bear is a southern gentleman who has wooed and courted and won my affection.  But a determined traveller, with a heavy backpack, does not look back.

Here I go, plugging my nose with my fingers, eyes squeezed tight, with a big goofy smile

Don'cha know???? summer solstice

This seems to happen once a year, maybe twice...  I stay up all night for no other reason than to uncover a life lesson.  One late night epiphany, that would not have otherwise been realized.  It's after 3 a.m. and here I am consoling with my laptop:

So I've become a self-helper.  yes, I said it.  self-help books.  I've made fun of them once upon a time...until I needed some(thing)one to hold my cold hand. Aaaand, since a good, interesting man is apparently so hard to come by, I started dating around in the self-help section of the bookstore.  How to be happy. hmmmmmmmmmm.  Is this even real?  Every once in awhile it's a cheesy, head bobbing, "Yeah!" in a dorky, overly enthusiastic tone.  Where I get stoked to change my life.  I'll get a 10 minute window of being high on self help.  That shit wears off faster than cheap coke and you're back to square one of trying to get stoked via the motivational bible.  For that short time, you have all the advice your friends will ever need, and they don't like to be in the same room with you, they don't care about how to live.

YEAH! ALL RIGHT!

Summer. is my fucking shit.  summer is what I do.  it's what i work towards all year.  I am a playwrite, and this is my debut, year after year.  I have a standard, that each summer needs to be better than the last.

I have to admit I'm a little well, um, hesitant about how I want this summer to go.  What do I love right now?  I love feeling excited, purposeful, healthy, in love.  That's the thing though...I don't feel those things yet.  I am sucking these self help books dry looking for something to get me truly excited about this summer 2011.  I just can't pinpoint it.  Last year was wild, naked, drunk... but that's not what I want this year.  And that scares me.

What truly feels good right now?  Sleep.  Rest, reflection, good food, good beer (singular), reading, writing, drawing, biking, independence.  But, but, but... the whiskey though..?!  I've put this unreal pressure on myself that makes me responsible for everyone's fun.  If I don't pioneer this summer's activities, our party will die off to disease and famine, oxen and all (<---- oregon trail© joke)

bbbrroaaow?

I'm serious, interweb, why do I feel the need to plan for fun, before I go out and do it? I'm waiting to feel EXSTATIC enough to write in all caps.  If I'm not excited, and not happy, then what am I?  Reflecting, deliberate, considerate, scholarly, trabajadura?  Okay, those aren't bad things... so why am I so damn concerned about being the wagon leader of fun?

Because what I like to do is not what everyone else likes to do, and I feel lonely having all of this fun by myself.  Maybe I should get a pet :

 

Yep, a pet it is.

A pet to be my partner in crime.  To cuddle with and do modestly fun, enriching activities.  We can go on a walk after dinner, and cuddle when we get home before we go to sleep.

(also possible: Substitute the word PET with BOYFRIEND)

VOI - FUCKIN- LA

These university people aren't my people.  It looks stupid when a university student has full sleeves of tattoos.  I look at them and think:  Easy life, too much money.

Where are the people who've worked for what they have?

Where are the people who think learning another language is standard, not intangible

why are boobs my biggest qualification, and who gives a fuck that I can't "make it" to dollar beers every fucking wednesday.  God I hope I never go to dollar beers.  I'd rather join a math club and stop plucking my eyebrows.

Sweet, I'll be 21 with a degree, but I've never stood on a moving motorcycle

I've found myself so quiet around people recently.  I feel bored, disconnected, and unmotivated to participate with my friends.  I'm not complaining, just starting to wonder if it's time to meet some interesting people.

you know, lesson of the day - ain't no thang

I have everything I need

xo

i need swag lessons

I often wonder who I am

or rather,

who I was, before all of these adornments, all of this lacy, colorful baggage (C)

before I was poised and painted, loved and hated

who was I?

at the deepest level, what is Ve+ Vg = Vp of me?

before when I was a little girl, and smiling was really easy

I had careless blonde afro, freckles and bugbites

lots of bugbites

before I was a punk, class president, tattoer, musician, barista and

before my parents caught me sneaking out, stealing cars, kissing boys

before my love was lost

before my heart was broken into non-existence, no glue existed to put it back together

before my virgin body had ever tasted caffeine, beer, smoke

it doesn't matter if that is who I am, or this is who I am.

I would like to have a conversation with my then self, just for old time's sake.

I remember that day that I was taught to question myself, I had never thought about disliking myself until I starting hanging out with these girls, they were seniors and I was a freshmen.  They hated themselves, but I loved them.

I had never looked in the mirror and disliked what i saw, until I saw them do it with such passion.  That was a snowball, and this is where I am. 

I am remembering that there was a time when being happy was jumping into the cool valley river over and over again.  Happiness was snuggling with my kitten, writing in my diary and painting my nails.  Happiness was my first cd and cd player.  Happiness was a camp out friday night in the living room with my parents - a fort, a tv dinner, and a movie with my family.  God I miss that.  Things are so different now.  I would like to say that things are better, but I would be lying to myself by saying so.

Things are just more complicated now.  And I know everybody says that.  Us humans - always attaching evolution with progress, intricate with progress. More is more, excess is success.   Why do we need all of these things.  The bigger the cake gets, the more we want for ourselves, yet the less we actually enjoy it.  You have all the cake you could ever want, but the party's over and you have no friends to enjoy it with.

Even though I'm nostalgic for the simplicity of the past, I'm not so sure I would go back there, if I had the chance, I like my complicated life, and the potential it holds.  I'm on the edge of something great, and I cannot let go of any of my little intricacies. It is those intricacies - the many facets that make me (insert word here for one-of-a-kind)

My Guys

What I miss most, though, is my guys.  My guys, ahhhhh.  The best guys in the world.  I would call them brothers, except that I've been romantically involved with most of them at one time or another.  I miss their energy.  Their drive, we'd drive all night, FSU & FTW in the most beautiful and constructive ways.  We'd talk about who we wanted to be when we had shed the skin of youth.  We'd listen to music, and we'd screaaamm because we could, and together things were just fine.  We'd create, and transcend.  Well rounded, well grounded, and often high up in the mountains.  Something in the moon and aire of those times bonded us together, something I haven't found since.  Dating here is pointless, because other guys don't match up to my guys. I keep looking for guys better than my guys, it's just not possible, I miss my guys.

Listening to:

Nick 13 - s/t (new)

Lauryn Hill - The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill

Man Man - Rabbit Habbits

Hayes Carll - Trouble in Mind

GET WEIRD STAY WEIRD - Summer 2011

I have this life-long LOVE, un-letting, unshakeable ambition, the desire to be 100% effective.  To get the most out of every fucking goddamn word and day (See what I did there?). "I want life and every word to the extent that it's absurd".  Call it perfectionism, a product of over-productive societal rearing, I don't care.  I want my cake-twelve feet tall, at the height of the Incan trail, with a sunflower in my hair and a goddamn mariachi band as my soundtrack.  Stagnant, boredom, relaxing are seldom words in my vocabulary, and if present - a mere a temporary transition, a fixing before the pounce.

You see, all of this "stuff", these "things", these are the first step to something beyond what even I can imagine for a life of a Renaissance woman.  I am the renaissance of the 21st century-- Art; street, tattoos; and anti-establishment.  Music; Punk, Country, Rockabilly.  Science; Evolution, Human Variation; Genetics. -- All with the mindset of one unified force-call it metaphysics, quantum mechanics, whatever- the idea that you cannot have a universe without mind entering into it.  love attracts love and "you are a child of the universe, no less that the trees and the stars, you have a right to be here, and whether or not it is clear to you, the universe is unfolding as it should."   I am these things, in love & on fire for what I want.  There is no end goal besides cultivating this love - for the rest of my life.

It will be more beautiful than you can possibly imagine.

Last summer was the best example of being at my prime.  I braced, and planned and I fucking let loose.  It was the best summer of my life, besides the summer that is about to manifest.  I think an important aspect to that was visualizing, and having goals for last summer.  I wrote out how I wanted to feel last summer: Happy, light, strong, active, productive, and in love.  And it was exactly that.  I made a zine, and a soundtrack, and I gave it to all of my friends called Naked Is The New Drunk (Summer 2010) - we were naked and listening to good music until the very end.  We all had a blast, doing exactly what we wanted to.

This summer is different.  New goals, new objectives, a healthier focus, and a honing in on goals that are to be accomplished.  This summer is driven by health, art, music, and love.  This summer is moving your body.  Moving to a beat that feeds your soul, attracts wonderful people into your life.  This summer is the summer that you realize your goals, and you enter into the being that you've always dreamt.  This summer I am training for a marathon, becoming a senior in college, starting a band, exploring art and tattoo, and having enough money to do and be exactly what I need and want to.  Here is a short list of the most important goals for summer 2011:

• Marathon training every morning - Long Beach Marathon October 9th
• Start a Neko Case Cover Band
• Tattoo & design more tattoos
• Play Outside
• Volunteer
• Read "The Origin of Species" by Charles Darwin
• Attend many outdoor music festivals 
• Hike at night
• Spontaneous camping trips
• Cook healthy meals 
• Keep a journal & keep doing the morning pages
• Write many postcards
• Take a roadtrip
• Be in my swimsuit as much as possible
• Plan an international trip for the future
• Learn to play the Harmonica
• Write a poem on a bathroom wall (still haven't done that)
• Fall in love
• Turn 21

The 2011 Summer Soundtrack is called STAY WEIRD and is available for free, by request.  The tracks are a compilation of new, old, and random - a diverse feeling good mix to put on repeat.  I give it to my close friends and people I think will actually listen and appreciate the music I love.  I like to provide a common soundtrack for my friends, so that we can sing along, dance along.  It's my favorite thing about a new season.

This summer is all about feeling good.  And getting down to the truest meaning of the phrase - feel good summer.  What truly makes you feel good.  Right now, think of 3 things that warm your heart.  Mine are 1) cofffee  2) sleeping naked 3) being outside.  That makes me want to keep going, but you get the point.  This summer is about doing what feels good on a moment to moment basis.  Not wasting time with stress and anxiety.  This does not mean lackadaisical, despondent, or distracted, because being stressed does not mean more productive or successful.  This means consciously aware of feeling ecstatic, beautiful, creative, ambitious at all times.  About enjoying your company at all times, even when you're by yourself.  What would make this moment more enjoyable for you?  Kick off your shoes, let your hair down, go for a run without a shirt on.  It's the little adjustment.  This is the summer about realizing what you want, and going for it, and being it now -- not waiting.

This is the first summer to the rest of your life, what do you want it to look like?


EMBRACE IT BABY. LET'S GET WEIRD.

 

GET WEIRD 2011

KMAG YOYO - Hayes Carll

It's The Devil I Love - Neko Case

Macchu Piccu - The Strokes

Carry My Body Down - Nick 13

Girls - Marina And The Diamonds

Shoop - Salt-N-Pepa

Can't Take Eyes Off of You - Lauryn Hill

Go To Sleep - The Avett Brothers

Like a Cloak - Kenneth Pattengale & Joey Ryan

Drunken Poet's Dream - Hayes Carll

Circuital - My Morning Jacket

All Alone - Nick 13

95521 - Quailfish

Twenty Miles - Deer Tick

Knockin' Over Whiskeys - Hayes Carll

Calgary - Bon Iver

The Diamond Church Street Choir - The Gaslight Anthem

enjoy, you lovers

Le Conte and I

"As an evolutionary idealist and populizer of science for the community, LeConte gave to science, an artistic charm.  He believed that the "logic of science," temporarily concealed by uncertainties and inadequate data, would eventually emerge as a completed masterpiece, enabling the scientist not only to trace the course of man's wisdom from the past, but also to analyze and direct his potential in the future.

LeConte had an artists concern for unity and therefore never accepted a polarity between man's physical and spiritual nature.  Likewise, he never separated science from art-- the desire for metaphysical unity, a harmony of all categories of life, was the pervasive theme running through all of his work.  Wrote Royce of LeConte,"Every definite series or province of facts or of processes [became for him] a subordinate part of a larger whole, intolerable in its fragmentariness."

Art, the highest for of unity, preceded science and was its condition for being.  Art led to science ,but when science advanced sufficiently it in turn perfected art.  Science, the "heavenly daughter of an earthly mother," led men to a fuller understanding of life by uniting empirical data with specualative genius, a union of intuition and patient research."

Emprical art precededs science and is its condition; rational art comes after science and is its embodiment.  Empirical art is the outcome of the use of intuitive reason, which works without the understanding itself, and which in its highest forms we call genius.  Scientific art is the outcome of the use of the formal reason which analyzes and understands the principles on which it works.  Empirical art may indeed attain great perfection, but sooner or later reaches its limit and either petrifies or decays.  Scientific art, because it understands itself, is of necessity indefinitely progressive."

John S Haller. Outcasts from Evolution pg 157.

Orozco

 A preoccupied character - different.  payed no attention to being crippled, therefore no one else did

"Dartmouth college was founded by a missionary who wanted to educate the local indians. Liasar Willack cam along with A grammar a bible a drum and more than 5000 quarts of whiskey. to the sound of his drum, the indians assembled, drank his whiskey, and learned to new testament.

 "We are studying dead ideas"

"prometheus"

denounce what you see, so that we can move forward--pessimism offers no way out.

Desiderata by Max Ehrmann

Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.

As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain or bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.

REALIZING

MY INNER FREAK

its there.  as its always been.  I've just never shutup long enough to hear the geek out.  My sally self sometimes gossips to loud to listen to the bookish nerd inside.  

That's where im at now.  In a loner place of self realization.  its not self realization until you truly fall in love with yourself either.  Because if you really get to know yourself, there's nothing to hate.  its the outside world that taught you to hate yourself, and to talk to yourself like you are inherently inferior, deteriorated, degraded.  when you realize yourself, you fall in love, and your face looks better.  you breathe as a gift to yourself, and not because you have to.

sometimes silence, and solidarity aren't the worst things to happen to a once drunk girl.  it hurts for a second, but that is your ears ringing from years of screaming just to hear yourself.  im not changed, im realized.

things that happen when you give yourself time to breathe:

oh shit, i have to go to class.  more later. maybe

We will find our way home

It's not that I don't like this country
I just hate everything about it
the embedded, default lifestyle
8 hour, carb sugar and beer days
basketball, mail and laundry
Shopping in bulk, and fucking to find love

All this bleach hurts my hands, and my skin misses the aire and sun
Fast paced and mean for no reason
I shouldn't have to give myself a pep talk everytime I leave my house

I want a nature walk
a simple meal with vegetables
a boy to ask me on a date
and a thought out glass of wine
I want a step and breath, and pieces
pieces of art, theatre, music
I want language and culture, and weekend trips

and sun and sun and sun and sun
I won't care if I get wrinkles, not if I've earned each one of them.

get me the fuck out of this country.

I did not realize until after I posted these videos, why I did.  They have a curious continuity about them.  An out of context beauty, a weird sound/picture disagreement and a free license to flail and be me weird and out of context.
I've loved spending so much time with myself.  I've become weirder- truer to form.  Alone time is germinating a seed of flair for when sociality attempts to dull your edge.  In the spring I bloom, arms in the aire, hair where it be, lipstick on my teeth, clothing or not- healthy.  Healthy and naked.  Alone and content. visualize and manifest.
I don't want to be an old lady with deeply embedded bra strap shoulders.  You know those ones?  Once delicate, easy shoulders, were strapped for so many years that the bone gave way to an indent.  I don't want that
If I died tomorrow I'd wish I were listening to good music,

espejo

Last night I decided that I was to spend today smiling.
I'm not one of those people to wear a fucking baby tee that says "SMILE!" or "Love is all you need"
because I think they're tacky

I've never spent too much time smiling.  Never really thought about it.  My father is a handsome man.  Good looking, successful man, and the best dad ever.  literally, the best father ever.  Anyways.  He doesn't smile.  He just doesn't.  Photos are painful because when he attempts to "smile" like everybody else does, it looks physically painful. Handsome father-doesn't smile.  Thats okay.

anyways.  everytime i looked in the mirror today, I smiled at myself.
Try it, you goof.

here's something I've never done:
A picture of me, sans makeup, sober, and smiling.

l 

if it looks a little forced, its because it was

listening to:

mixes from lovely friends.

The Strokes - Angles

Neko Case

Hayes Carll

Things I've never done before

I've never been this person before
Ever since I had a say in it, I've never been sober.
I've never been sober for 21 days straight. not consciously. not on purpose.
Why am I doing this?  Not because I have to, that's for sure
and I think I'm still the same dezi, but with sobriety being the new drunk.  I like to feel all of this.  I like going to parties and being myself, under control, and in all my weirdness.
I like feeling every little thing.  I like feeling too quiet, or even bored in a situation that I would have "fit" perfectly in before.  This is me getting bored with my-self of yesterday, and trying something new today for no other purpose than to stir shit up.  Keep myself interested in this stagnant academic state.  It's wild to feel around social situations, with a heightened clarity.  To be, quite literally, the conscious observer, and "participant" but only in the anthropological sense. Ethnographic field work where my body can take a deep breath.  And I'm not going to get all into the preachy, I feel so wonderful, smarter and light since I stopped drinking.  No, because I still eat sugar like it's my job, and I have not found the key to success.  Its just another act to keep myself entertained, interested in this life.  I just happen to like it for now.  Who knows, day 22 maybe I'll binge just like 17 year old me would have loved to.

I've never been so removed before (in the best sense of the word).  I have only been on the computer for business purposes in the last two- almost three weeks.  I still check the notifications on the facebook, and reply to family and friends because I don't want to be rude.  But that's an obligation I hold myself to because I don't want to be totally selfish in this way. My focus is shifted elsewhere.  I can't even remember what I did before on the computer.  Besides to write useless blog entries like this one about where I'm at in life.  And to those 3 people (maybe) who actually read far enough into this, they all know that I've never put too much energy in revising and making this something worth reading.  Rather a place that I can carelessly throw my ramble, and interest in music.  I like that those are mine now.  totally private if I want.  My music is my bubble bath, my facial and massage.  My love notes and bible.  My music is the calm in my being.  My music is where all beauty stems from, and in my opinion, everything needs a soundtrack.  If you are a person without a soundtrack, I am uninterested in you.  I hold so highly my music, like it is all defining, the most important faucet to my personality.  I will never, could never reply "I listen to everything" because such a whorish statement does not do justice to the thoughtful pieces that accompany me wherever I go.  Each day is a song, with many verses, many changes of pace, a complex tone.  Pay attention to the rhythm because in that you will figure me out.

Listen to my rhythm boy, and you will be mine.  Keep up with my rhythm, learn the dance, and lyrics.  Learn the influences and verses and you will be mine.  Out of step is okay, just fall back into it.  Let my song tell you where to move next, where to put your hand, and twirl me.  Be brave, be fearless in song and dance and we will make beautiful music.

These last couple weeks have been really defining in my life (i think), and I feel a somewhat obligation to update this blog to say that.  I feel like I should let someone or something in on the changes that I have been through.  Deep, core changes.  A paradigm shift of a winter, to align me with myself.  I am more me right now than I have ever been in my life.  I am more focused, driven since these changes, and I want nothing more than to cultivate what I've learned about the strength of letting myself feel.  Instead of pushing the muck aside to feel the fun, feeling it briefly, and then letting it pass.  I can see how it gets so confusing.  How feeling good all the time is better than feeling a little bit awkward in front of a cute boy.  So then it becomes a situation where you need that to make you feel comfortable.  But my truth is that I need people in my life who appreciate my unfine moments.  Those who can see the beauty in my struggle, and don't notice that I haven't brushed my hair.  Those who think its more unattractive to be flawless than to be real.


You see, there are just so many talkers in this world.  People talking about what they will do.  It is my intention to not be one of those people, and if I have been in the past, then to leave that forever.  Promises are for people who need a contract.  Why make a promise to someone else other than yourself.  And, a mistake I've made before, why put weight into a promise given to you by someone else.  As if you need what that act of promising from them, more than what they will show you.  The follow through of a promise is just as important as the promising act.  Someone who talks and does not follow through is someone you should not give your heart to, because their heart is not full enough to be writing off a promise for later.  You I should never let your myself take a promise to be loved later.


Something Kurt Vonnegut said, that has stayed at the front of my mind:

"Don't be reckless with other people's hearts, and don't put up with people that are reckless with yours."

Besides being in love with spending so much quality time with myself, and myself only, that's where I'm at.  I feel no other need to explain myself.


that being said: the best new album that I've listened to this month, a free download I stumbled upon: Kenneth Pattengale & Joey Ryan http://www.foursix.net/2010/

Its a thoughtful, well-composed and intriquite but light-hearted soundtrack to the rain that is springtime .  It transitions well with the season's attempts to let the sun shine through the clouds.  His lyrics makes the rain bearable, and the easy guitar riffs make the passing sun feel warmer.  A very good find.

final week week final finally weak

The hardest part about love, I've learned, is that you still love them even after they've hurt you

Another hard part is that it's never as fun to wash your hair by yourself, or the rest of your body for that matter

this is how we feel

It's hard writing a paper about depression and stress when you're depressed and stressed.

that is all


listening to:
Portishead - Third
over and over and over

Cool stuff brooke sent me

Sometimes I think she knows me better than myself.  She saved these things saying they reminded her of me.  She is quite literally, a life saver.  Cheers to Brooke.

 And she's cute as a fucking button!!



Now watching:
Black Snake Moan.
ooooohhhhhhh

Shoop

I'm that sort of morning tired.
Exhausted like I ran a marathon last night, but energetic in reliving last night and thinking about how fun it would be to do it all over again.
To make it my mission to find a party with people who are dancing.
What is it about dancing that you see someone's true self.
If they are too reluctant about dancing, especially alone, then you also learn something about their personality.
I'm talking the people who aren't afraid of shaking their freak shaker.
if you know what I mean.
the ones who can lose themselves.
Away from what their ass looks like as their failing about, or gracing about.  Depending on the dance.
This morning I am tired, physically, because i walked and danced miles.  My feet are tired, but thankful I let them do their thing.
What today brings around is a cup of coffee. A quality cup of coffee at my favorite little getaway coffee shop.  Far from where I'll run into anyone I wouldn't want to.
I'll get a cup of coffee and I'll probably get to talk to the cute barista.  Hopefully about music, or coffee because I can hold a mean conversation about the aforementioned.
This morning I realized that I need an iron maiden t-shirt.  I realized it makes no sense that I don't have one, and that I will acquire one sooner than later.
Also I am debating going back to SVP to buy that Jonas Brothers tee.  It's a guys tee, and I might choose to make it mine, but I also might choose to give it to one of my friends, whom it will make very very happy.  Shoot, I should have got it for Lucas for having that party at his house last night.
Maybe when I go back I will find that, and my Iron Maiden shirt.  Hopefully it will be worn into perfection.
Oh now I got myself all excited.

Cheers to you, empty internet, and the idea that I can spill my morning brain unto you, and you don't even try to stop me (but constrain me into this typefont square-thats okay)  That I can tell you all of these things and you'll file it away for me.  For a rainy day when maybe I'll forget how fun and perfect college can be.  Maybe at the apocalypse my blog will be the only one left to tell the new generation about my time (which will be ancient hieroglyphics by then).  And when they decipher and decode my writings, they'll hypothesize that genus: HOMO and species: ERECTOSAPIEN were really fun, witty people who dabbled in mind-altering substances, but mostly remained occupied by an overabundance of available caloric units, abused the non-shivering thermogenesis adaptation to vasoconstrict via alcohol.  But mostly were really learnéd, patrons of the arts, sciences, tattoos, and coffee.  Not a bad rap if I do say so myself.  You're welcome fellow specie members, I'll keep up the good work.  On behalf of all of us freaks here on earth.  I will not only wave my freak flag of peace, but I will immortalize my freak constitution for further generations ensuring that the freakness will not be lost.  Never archaic, never irrelevant, always fun.

funny things that happened tonight

These guys with tons of piercings that I was standing right next to were trying to talk about me to eachother in the worst spanish ive ever heard, then they gave up and were really embarassed when I started to speak flawlessly.


I went to a party that I knew only two people, and within the hour had every single person dancing

I took a picture in between a 60 year old couple holding a joint, flask, redbull and a butterfly temp tattoo on the dads forehead

I watched a pinata get CURB STOMPED, and then I got TWO unicorns, and a female condom out of it.

I learned how to say ALLAH WALLA which is arabic for hey whats up?! and said it to a real arab

I told the guy who walked me home that I didn't want to kiss him, probably ever.  I hurt his feelings but its better how much I would have hurt him otherwise

i met the editor to one of my favorite campus magazines

I came home, brushed my teeth, put on lucero, and stretched and thought about how fun this night was.

This night, Friday February 11, the day Sophie turned 21, Lady Gaga released her single, and Mumbarak stepped down as dictator of Egypt.

..I'll drink to that.

SAD seasonal effective disorder

Is real, and fucked.
this is NOT my climate

Listening to:
Orchestra of Wolves -Gallows

Human Biological Variation

Seemingly, there are biological and evolutionary explantations for everything that we ARE.  Every motive, habit, excuse, and inclination might be explicable by the way we have evolved to be.  All the fat, sugar, carbs that we are addicted to as a society because in the past we may have needed to store fat while it was available.  Is It is not our fault that we love cookies.  Emotions are us fighting biology, or the way that our bodies dictate our lives in conflict with a modern sense of how humans are "supposed" to be.
We are a tropically adapted species.  In 7 million years of evolution from primates to anatomically modern humans in a bipedal, hairless state, we spent 5 million years in Africa, and it wasn't until 2 million years ago that we branched out of Africa, into the North.  Thus, we have spent 5 million years giving our bodies time to adapt to heat.  To give the sun credit for its LITERALLY life giving radiation.  We stood upright, we lost all hair, we sweat, we tan, we breathe, all of these things probably in adaptation to the warm climate of Africa.
Then we moved north, finicky humans always thinking they can do better.  I think innovation is driven by greed, and the attempt to obtain MORE.  The cold is a newer adaptation for us, and most of the things we do to deal with the cold are not biological, but cultural such as shelter, insulation, shivering, and very slightly, our body sizes compacted.

Now that we've mastered staying alive, we shift focus to being the best at living.  To get the most STUFF while alive. 

The point of this is to bring to light how far we've come, but not necessarily in a good way.  The idea of "never forgetting where you came from" applies here.  Don't forget that 2,000 calories every single day is NOT normal in an evolutionary sense.
This whole LIFE we've created, this excessive, overly"productive" but actually redundant existence.  We've made up a "purpose" in life, being some spiritual, religious, emotional purpose that really has no function but to complicate and eradicate these global conflicts over NOTHING.
All the things we DO: education, exploring, science, consumerism, blogging for fuck's sake.  IT MEANS NOTHING.  love means nothing to a realist.  Do not effect the evolutionary record.  It's blowing smoke and mirrors (bread & circuses) of purpose and feeling into this being.  Culture, besides through means of sustenance, is all a distraction, a large scale day care to keep us entertained and important whilst living here.  Wherever "This" is
Maybe I'm just on a tangent of meaninglessness, because of my existentialist reversion.  Maybe it's because im pissed that I'm forcing myself to live in this state.  Which is inherently uncomfortable, and stressful because my body HATES being cold, and when it's cold, my biology makes me want to hibernate, collect adipose through disgusting forms like alcohol, and bread.  Because I am unhappy in the cold and Its not me being abnormal, but the opposite.  I'm making my life extremely stressful, living outside my means.  Worrying that probably shows on my bones, and definitely on my genes, about obaining thousands of dollars (in fake resources) to get myself through school? and WHY? to complicate life only.  Because not me, but the globalized culture that I was born into created this greater purpose for me, to not just be successful in an evolutionary sense, procreation, but successful in a modern world system, of getting the MOST.  The most money, the most food, luxuries, enlightenment, salvation, education, status, etc.  All of these things that actually bring me away from evolutionary success, which is easy, which is natural and unforced, that is, SEX.
You want to make an impact on the universe?  have sex, make babies, lots of them.  That sounds so easy right?  That's because life is supposed to be easy, unforced, natural.  Flowers don't strain to grow, the sun gives no effort to shine, that's what it does.  The sun doesn't try to outdo itself and shine purple one day, just to exceed expectations, or to succeed, or show its mastery of LIFE. These things around us are so effortless, we look at them, dominate them, culturize them, make them "things" that are "ours" and we sell them in Safeway for $9.99 per bouquet.
What would happen to you if you stopped playing the game?  One day you decided to stop it all, go back to nature.  Do you even know what that looks like?  I hardly think anyone does.
Do you know what your hair looks like on its own?  Your very own hair without Hair dryers, straighteners, hairspray, mousse, shampoo, conditioner, and a salon cut? I don't.  I've had a haircut since my very first hair.  My nature has been tamed since I was a child.
I once read a book about a family who was uplifted from their wealthy lifestyle in South Africa during the diaspora.  A British couple and their two children who were professors in their "normal" lives were forced to life in the bush with their former house servants family.  After several weeks in the bush with a completely primitive diet, no showers, and simple huts for housing.  The couple didn't have sex once, they weren't even attracted to each other outside of their own setting.  Without their two-story immaculate house, and plush bed, their attraction was curbed.  Maybe they were waiting for their situation to improve so they could be in love, but how long do you wait?
After two months the wife admits to being repulsed by the way her body smelled.  She admits her amazement that she had never really experienced her own body in it's most simple form.  Without the masks of fresh clothing, bathing, perfumes, she didn't even recognize her own smell.  ( She made it memorable by using the word CUNT).
Further, she had never smelled the odor of her husband.  She was repulsed by her husband whom cultured hath sworn vows to love endlessly and in any circumstance.  (But there was never a clause in case he smells really bad though, right?)  It's scary when you think you're so close to someone, until you realize that you've never ever seen them without all of these cultural luxuries.  Without bathing, clothing, makeup etc.
How can you love someone wholly if you've only seen them under strong influence of the culture around them.  Do you still love them if these things disappear?
love doesn't really exist.  sex exists.

to be continued.

Punk before 8

God damnit those help the Monday sting.


Also, this bad tattoo of the day:

To do today:
FIND A BADASS JOB

And a series of photos of me getting really fucked up

listening to: some bullshit rap from a party in the kitchen

wathing: Skins, and Broken Embraces

SEX and, who the fuck is she?

You must not have heard about how important I am now
Since we last spoke I got very good looking
I don't know how, but I, and my many new male compatriots would agree, that I look great
Also, I have come into a social scene that worships me
they hang on my last word, and would kill for some insight into my mysteriously desireable and sexy misterîe.
All the invitations I cannot count, to  make an appearance here, dance there
If I'm there its a party, and I know all the right dance moves
My social life is pregnant with opportunity and glamour, it seems I can hardly even keep up.
awh, I can hardly keep up.
Those shorts I wear, with the little deers, the sun doesn't even coax me outside.  I've got stuff to do but the effort seems just too much.  too much angst in going out there.  I haven't showered in days, and I have sweat of other people from the concert all over me.  I put on perfume to go to class.  You know, the one you once swooned over.  The perfume smells awful on me now, and it's not because of my bathing, but because I've changed.  Books and school are well and good, but lets not pretend I give a fuck right now. You never liked school either.
I'm trying hard to find a drug that I'm good at, but I can't, I dont like any of them, none of them stick or make it feel differently.  I can't be straight edge either, because thats what you are.
In my mind sometimes I glamourize my apathy
Maybe this drawing will be the key tattoo, maybe the more soul searching I do, the better mental masturbation will arise.  Something I never told you before you know, is FUCK YOU for ruining sex for me.  fuck you for giving me the best sex i'll probably ever have, and then running away with it. 
Sure, she looks like Mary Kate, and probably has more energy than I could imagine, but I have your books, && a pair of your old socks that you may need again.
And I'm also not very romantic anymore, it's mostly your fault  because your jaw line makes my body quiver, and the words that fall are covering up my desire you jump you like your mine again.
Who the fuck do you think you are leaving this important and glamorous mess, her music sucks, and you'll never have as good inside jokes as we did.
Also, I doubt she'll be able to deal with your road rage or insomnia the way I could. can.
 I don't like drugs but I do like you.You gave my world structure, purpose, and great sex and  I am not unmad about what you've done to me.

Saw Tom Gabel last night,

and you didn't so go fuck yourself

TGIF

Black Hole Masses

So now I've wasted this time,

bought by beneficiaries 

unknown sugar daddies, 

and the galactic thugs

all in order to educate myself 

to defeat them someday

to protest their build, and reproduction

using their money to arm myself against them

And no, its not really wasted,

not as wasted as the prospect of romance 

in this over exposed world 

You once said Punk is Dead,

well I'm here to tell you that Love is Dead.

yes, dead on on a road paved with leather and steel stud forms

lighted by burning british flags, scent of stale cigarettes

This isn't fun anymore,

dancing with no partner

"In Chapter 24, we saw the standard model of active galactic nuclei accepted by most astronomers -- accretion of gas onto a supermassive black hole.  We also say that a large fraction of all "bright"galaxies exhibit activity of some sort, even though in many cases it represents only a small fraction of the galaxies total energy output.  This suggests the potential of far greater activitiy under the right circumstances.  Our own galaxy is a case in point.  The 3-4 million-solar-mass black hole at the center of the Milky Wat is not currently active, but if fresh fuel were supplied (say, by a star or molecular cloud coming too close to the hole's intense gravitational field), it might well become a (relatively weak) galactic nucleus."

 

Listening to recently (since it's been awhile):

Randy Rogers Band

Country Strong Soundtrack (that's right)

Oh Land

Typhoon

The Smiths

disarm or die

We walk the streets at night
We go where eagles dare
They pick up every movement
They pick up every loser
With jaded eyes and features
You think they really care

I ain't no goddamn son of a bitch
You better think about it baby
I ain't no goddamn son of a bitch
You better think about it baby, babe

An omelet of disease awaits your noontime meal
Her mouth of germicide seducing all your glands

I ain't no goddamn son of a bitch
You better think about it baby
I ain't no goddamn son of a bitch
You better think about it baby, babe

Let's test your threshold of pain

Let's see how long you last
That's happened in your rape
On bosoms of your past

With jaded eyes and features
You think they really care
Let's go where eagles dare
We'll go where eagles dare

"Where eagles Dare" - The Misfits