Electric Ladybugs

no one reads this so I don't care

Tue, 01 Apr 2008 03:59:07 GMT

I had something to say but then I forgot it.
I'm not going to play games anymore.
My brain is fried and you can make fun of me all you want.
Because I can't process your insults quickly enough to be hurt by them.
You can hurt me all you want. You can hurt me until I hide in my bed for weeks, and it'll be okay. It'll be okay because you've done more damage to me than anything else can and I'm still here. I'm still here.
I'm okay. I'm alright. I'm breathing.
The other night my friends and I went to see Planet Earth on a big projector in Barnum 08, where I used to have my Anthropology class. Most of us were high. I remember feeling like the whale that had no purpose but to climb to the higher water where it was warmer to feed during the day, and sink down lower to the colder water at night to sleep. I'm really not much different from a shark, or a dolphin. More like a dolphin.
I'm going to stop smoking weed.
It makes me think too much.

silliest/best thing I've heard all night

Tue, 26 Feb 2008 04:19:54 GMT

mialol: your country house!
turnupthatd***: i hope u like it
turnupthatd***: there are no bars
turnupthatd***: no clubs
turnupthatd***: just vibes

p.s. I don't think anyone's ever asked me to their place to cook dinner for me before. Let alone a guy. This is nice.

Mon, 25 Feb 2008 20:56:32 GMT

Gahhh so much frustrated energy building up. I feel like I'm not doing anything with my life anymore. Instead of doing ballet I've been doing modern, which isn't satisfying to say the least. Instead of actually dancing and exercising we just roll around on the floor to ambiguous counts in ambiguous music.
I signed up for a yoga class at Harvard, have to catch the 4 o'clock joey. More on this later.

Mon, 25 Feb 2008 03:59:44 GMT

Nevermind. Met them all tonight, went to house dinner, I love them all and they love me. Yay.

Sun, 24 Feb 2008 22:22:10 GMT

Hmmm...I wonder if deciding to live in the Arts House next year will have been a mistake.
I'm pretty excited about the people living there with me, about 15 other artists, mostly juniors and seniors, but then again I feel like I might not be near my other friends at all, and I'm again closing myself off to everyone besides the art kids.
Either way it'll be nice to live in a house, especially with people I know I'll get along with.
I kind of still wish I went to RISD.

Sun, 24 Feb 2008 11:06:19 GMT

Hey, if you're gonna go completely crazy, I'm allowed to go a little bit crazy, too.

Sun, 24 Feb 2008 10:48:26 GMT

Everyone needs to listen to Organ Donor by DJ Shadow, the extended recall version. Maybe my friends are far too foreign for my own good, but it's all we've listened to for about two weeks. Maybe I'm just too much a stoner to listen to anything else now. Who knows. Either way I'm done with stupid drama. I've fully decided to cut the shit and just deal with what's right in front of me. Fuck the past. It's the past and it's done. I hope I can look back on this and remember it, because when I'm sober I can't manage to understand it. It's weird that I can be so clear and straightforward with myself when I'm messed up, but be way too rational and logical when I'm sober to see past any of it. In any case...Shadow innit.

You got an organ goin' there (no wonder the sound has so much body)

Wed, 20 Feb 2008 22:40:45 GMT

aaaand everything is now officially going to shit.
fuck.
what am I doing?

Tue, 19 Feb 2008 21:49:54 GMT

heftur með gaddavír í kjaftinum sem blæðir mig
læstur er lokaður inn í búri
dýr nakinn ber á mig
og bankar upp á frelsari
ótaminn setur í ný batterí
og hleður á ný
og hleður á ný
og hleður á ný
og hleður á ný
við tætum tryllt af stað
út í óvissuna þar
til að við rústum öllu og reisum aftur
aftur á ný
aftur á ný
aftur á ný
aftur á bak þar sem við ríðum
aftur með gaddavír
sem rífur upp gamalt gróið sár
er orðinn ryðguð sál
rafmagnið búið
mig langar að skera
og rista sjálfan mig á hol
en þori það ekki
frekar slekk ég á mér
aleinn á ný

Tue, 19 Feb 2008 05:04:09 GMT

They say time heals everything, but I think that's a huge fucking load of bull.

This isn't ever going to go away.

Mon, 18 Feb 2008 00:44:42 GMT

Don't you love those days when you feel like a complete waste of human space?

I have dreams about dying every night now. I stopped watching Six Feet Under but it's like I'm fucking obsessed or something. Every night is a new scenario in which I'm going to die soon and I have to make myself die. Over and over again, and I'm always alone. Last night I was a human sacrifice, and if I didn't die (again, by doing something trivial for an even amount of seconds) by that night, then everyone else in the world would die. But I was too scared to die and I couldn't bring myself to do it. Again. I can never bring myself to do it.

I hate that I have lucid dreams so often. Sleeping is supposed to be a break from life, but all I do when I sleep is dream about confronting things I refuse to confront while I'm awake.

Wed, 13 Feb 2008 22:14:19 GMT

I'm pretty glad I've been so fucking busy that I haven't even been able to dread Valentines Day.

I have about an hour until my Anthropology test, which I will without a doubt bomb.

These days I feel like I'm always counting down to something. Minutes or days or bites of toast or tea bags. Everything is time and I fucking hate it. I just want to slow down, I want everything to stop moving so quickly. I can't grasp anything if you're going to talk to me this quickly and I'm never going to be able to say the right thing if you ask me that question before I have time to even think up my opinion of you.

I don't understand how time can move so slowly and then before you know it the moments you want to hold onto are gone. Everything I want to last doesn't and everything I want to end lasts for an eternity.

This is completely juvenile and I feel stupid. I have to study for Anthropology now. I hate that I let people make me feel stupid.

Tue, 12 Feb 2008 02:50:58 GMT

I'm pretty bitter right now. I decided to read through my entire livejournal, and that didn't help any of the bitterness.

I miss the city, even though there's no reason to.

god I was such a little twat. I would create a new livejournal, but I like the color scheme of this one and I don't remember how to re-do it. I would also delete all my past entries, but that scares me. Even though the posts are pathetic, it's good to look back on and realize how far you've come. I just wish everyone else didn't have to see them.

meh. art so much art history whyyyyyy

Mon, 11 Feb 2008 05:46:24 GMT

some wanna-be elitist asshole tried to slap me last night after he called me a cunt.

all I did was tell him to be quiet. he was screaming the words to a biggie song at the top of his lungs at 3 in the morning in my friends room.

now he's saying I slapped him.

...

I feel...so violated.

fuck

Fri, 08 Feb 2008 23:50:29 GMT

I have to be ready in 21 minutes so I can go eat thai/mexican food in harvard square with Jenny's mom and 6 other of my friends. I have to be ready in 20 minutes so I can go eat thai/mexican food in harvard square with Jenny's mom and 6 other of my friends.

fuck.

But I still haven't showered and I smell of a weird mix between oranges, mildew, and body odor.

fuck

And all I've done today is sleep and then wake up and watch an episode of Skins (british show resembling something along the lines of degrassi mixed with a really good show that equals out to a high-mediocre show that has a lot of pretty british kids from Bristol taking too many drugs and swallowing alcohol as if it were water fuck)

I have to be ready in 18 minutes so I can go eat thai/mexican food in harvard square with Jenny's mom and 6 other of my friends.

I think I might send a card in place of me so I don't have to go and so I can keep watching Skins and falling asleep. I've been watching six feet under which is a terrible idea, because all it does is make me think about death and how much I dont want to die and how much I am going to die one day, and maybe it wont be in old age, maybe it'll be in three years when I drink too much and choke on my vomit or maybe it'll be in 30 years when I realize my life is a waste and I have no one to love and while I'm thinking all of this I'll be crossing the street near my house on the fucking upper east side in fucking manhattan in fucking new york city and my fucking neighbor (I only have one, we share a floor in my apartment building) will be fucking speeding and will turn the fucking corner and not fucking see me (I mean come on, no one REALLY sees me) and fucking run me over. It's all possible, it's all going to happen, very very soon. Time is relative, right? Right? So that means that tomorrow will be shorter than today and then in thirty years that day will be.....about .00823 times shorter than today, yeah? fuck fuck fuck

I have to be ready in 14 minutes so I can go eat thai/mexican food in harvard square with Jenny's mom and 6 other of my friends.

I should be getting ready but instead I'm thinking and thinking of my dream I had where I had no one to love and no one who loved me because I had to die, within the time frame between my scheduled funeral (that my mom scheduled and paid for, so obviously I had to go through with dying) and I couldn't I couldn't bring myself to die, but I was with someone, a nameless, sexless person, who was there with me and even they couldn't get me to die (dying in my dream only meant closing my eyes and keeping them shit for 10 seconds (why ten?)) but I fucking couldnt bring myself to die ever so instead I went to a rehab for people who were suicidal. Irony? no. fuck.

I have to be ....yeah fuck it I have to be ready now but I wont be because to feel good about myself I need at least fifteen pounds of make up and twenty eight pounds of water to fill my tummy and make me think I'm hydrated enough to drink away my sorrows later that night what? what? fuck? fuck

Why am I thinking of things I shouldnt be thinking of thinking of things I dont want to shouldnt be thinking about fuck fuck fuck why is this happening I brought it upon myself I did it to myself its my fault so that doesnt make it easier but it should shouldnt fuck

Thu, 07 Jun 2007 02:29:52 GMT

I don't think anyone understands how truly depressing 9 A.M. and 5 P.M. subway rides are until you actually witness them. I don't mean the 6 train, either. I mean the ones that run through midtown--any that run from 20th to 60th street, on either west or east sides. No, no, you don't get it until you ride them, twice a day, with the same people. All with the same facial expressions, the same suits, the same COLOR suits, the same clanky, awkward heels, the same monotone ties. The same glazed-over eyes produced by intense boredom and an inkling of failure in life. Tired of routines--tired routines that take away the sense of a new day. Everyday is the same day. Life is one long day. The same one. Over, and over again.
Maybe that's not how they feel. Maybe they're happy. They should be....right? They're all business people, making good money, with kids and spouses at home. But the sallow cheeks, the grey tint in their skin...I don't know. I'm not so convinced anymore. The thought of a huge crowd of suits and ties and briefcases is a scary thought. (Right? Or is it just me?) The sight of it is even worse. I'm scared. No, I'm fucking terrified.
My favorite characters on the subway are the young ones. The ones straight out of college, literally having just graduated and started the job within the past month. They're still intact. Instead of shiny, still eyes, theirs dart around as if they're frogs ready to catch a moving fly with their extra-long tongues. Look, look, look! Eyes moving in beats of three, one two three, one two three, beat beat beat. Look! There went my youth! Their faces are flushed, as if trying to fight off the nearing and inevitable yellow-grey undertone their faces will inherit. They keep their hands on their thighs, close to the crest of their knee--alert, alarmed, scared. Are they realizing the sticky, plasticky doom slowly pouring in, surrounding them? (Doom? Is that too dramatic?) Am I watching them as they come to the same realization that I am? That I'm about an inch away from being sucked into the workforce? "The Workforce." What the fuck? What is that? Why do black pants, black jackets, white pressed shirts and ties signify so much all of the sudden? I never thought I'd have to enter that world. But I do. One day, I'll have to. And I'll want to.
What the fuck. What the fuck.

P.S. I hate my job.

P.P.S. I'm currently sitting on my floor, with my computer in front of me, in tights, a leotard, and pointe shoes. And a sweater. Can't forget the sweater. I've lost my mind.

Mon, 14 May 2007 03:21:06 GMT

Flowergirl183: I hate rationality.

Tue, 08 May 2007 01:03:32 GMT

you're not conventionally pretty. you are not. conventionally pretty. conventional. pretty. you're not. pretty. conventional pretty. pretty conventional. you are. you aren't. are you. no. not conventionally pretty. pretty, not conventional. you're not conventionally pretty. conventionally pretty. you're not conventionally pretty. you're not pretty. you aren't pretty. you are not pretty. you are not conventional. you are not pretty.

Wed, 02 May 2007 20:35:14 GMT

the first thing I heard when I got to school this morning at 8 15 AM:

Lourdes, the receptionist:
"Wow...you look like shit."

Me:
"Uhh...are you kidding?"

Lourdes:
"Well, you're not wearing any make-up, right?"

No, I wasn't wearing any make-up.

HAI GUYZ

Sat, 28 Apr 2007 00:40:50 GMT

in case you were wondering, that's where i've been for the past eon.

Thu, 26 Apr 2007 23:14:22 GMT

All dressed down to catch a whiff of the buzz
Smells like the death of the last great cause
But you & I we've been through that and that is not our fate
Give my face to the back of your head
Loyal in your shadow
Yeah yeah yeah
Broken accidental stars

Do lawyers have lawyers?
Do landlords have landlords? we're wondering
One more cheap suit in the loop, more chlorine in the pool
The blonde dolls smiling behind us
Says one day you'll be just like us

All dressed up to catch a glimpse of the list
We've seen some success, it looks like a camero
Yeah yeah yeah
Broken accidental stars

Calling from the next hotel - can you put me on the list?
Who we are now we will always be- the best haircuts are taken

Tue, 17 Apr 2007 03:20:57 GMT

my mood changes far too much to write in this. anything I write here will become obsolete within a couple hours.
i'll just leave pictures instead.

except I don't have any I want to leave right now.

umkbye.

Fri, 23 Mar 2007 03:32:33 GMT

I should really start writing in this thing again.
It's kind of a hassle, and a bit mind-boggling, since I can't think of anything good to write about, nor write anything good at all.
It's hard to write when there isn't anything to complain about.
The only thing left to do on this thing is to quote songs, post pictures/videos/links, etc, or talk about what happened during the day or past few days, and I doubt anyone really cares to read a recitations of my boring days that are cut up routinely into neat 40 and 5 minute intervals, (class 40, walking-time 5) and then used as small injections of torture where our 5 minute breaks are our relapse time, before we prepare for another painful span of endless time that has been disguised as 40 minutes.
And now, I'm falling asleep, because I took too much ativan, and not enough coffee. I guess this is just how things go.

p.s. do you ever feel like there's something missing? how about now?

I got into SMFA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sat, 17 Mar 2007 02:24:21 GMT

I felt that a picture post was in order, especially because I found out a second after this picture was taken.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! arttttttt !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

When there's no way out, the only way out is to give in.

Mon, 12 Mar 2007 20:23:23 GMT

how...I...love...
to give in.