So...got the mortage statement in the mail today...oh, and it's 100 dollars more a month. AWESOME!!!
Seriously? wtf. How can you do that? I try to come up with some sort of spending allowance, which i already have problems maintaining, and then this? Serious?
Well, whatever.
I try to simplify, paying off my car loan, saving, investing, living within my means and trying to conserve energy, but apparently I still fail. Wacawaca, what can you do. Thus is a theme of life, money and its bastardness, but it is not life.
Things I like about life:
Painting
Creating
Helping things grow and being in moist dirt with feet
Washing the nice dog
New and lovely music
Exertion
Flirting
Yummy foods
Cold Pale Ales
Sun tans and bathing suits
Good books and profound thoughts
Crosswords
Running
Lemonade
Gatorade
Selling paintings
Friends that stay around forevers
Sleeping with no alarm set
Rainy summer afternoons
Mad Men
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Oh, you know...life.
Tonight I researched outdoor jobs. I am wanting to move, somewhere. I've got that itch. I don't think it leaves, and I think ignoring it becomes a large part of my depression, when it appears.
I feel torn, wanting stability and also wanting to run far, far away from that and be free to do and be whatever in the hell I desire. I want to be something/one signifcant and do things that are good, but I have so many things! Shoo, boi.
I mean, I be applying to grad school, then I'm researching travel and whatnot, and what do I intend to do with that? Everyone knows once you go to grad school, that is the plain end of adventuring. You get your job and then you retire to that lifestyle.
Heck, though.
I want to frolick through the woods and across this earth.
I also want a home to return to and belong to.
I want to make awesome awesome amazing art.
I want to help the little childrens see how awesome they and life are.
I don't want to be tied down to one place. I don't want to be roped into anything.
I want to be out west. I want to be in an unstable place. I want to wander. I want to climb mountains. I want to meet others who are brave enough to do the same and embrace the chaos of life.
We'll see.
I feel torn, wanting stability and also wanting to run far, far away from that and be free to do and be whatever in the hell I desire. I want to be something/one signifcant and do things that are good, but I have so many things! Shoo, boi.
I mean, I be applying to grad school, then I'm researching travel and whatnot, and what do I intend to do with that? Everyone knows once you go to grad school, that is the plain end of adventuring. You get your job and then you retire to that lifestyle.
Heck, though.
I want to frolick through the woods and across this earth.
I also want a home to return to and belong to.
I want to make awesome awesome amazing art.
I want to help the little childrens see how awesome they and life are.
I don't want to be tied down to one place. I don't want to be roped into anything.
I want to be out west. I want to be in an unstable place. I want to wander. I want to climb mountains. I want to meet others who are brave enough to do the same and embrace the chaos of life.
We'll see.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
gratefulbabies
the music was quite right.
melancholy...ish.
friends keep it from getting too crazy in my head.
i did well not to think too much upon the situation at the other table, and how i wanted him to see me and my heart and not think it was hurt. true friends are the best. ones you can count on. he did come back around to give me a high five, but when she wasn't there. i don't know how i feel about that. i do feel she's not too fond of me, or jealous. i don't know why when she's got him, in her pocket. i feel a sadness in between us, but that could be a projection of mine. i suppose i would say that, despite that, i am happy for those who find happiness with each other. except for those some small feelings of drips of honey in the bottom of the heart, pooling around, as if waiting to be realized and used and utilized.
but there are prospects and hopefulness, and i'm not always sure why, but i'm looking forward to now.
melancholy...ish.
friends keep it from getting too crazy in my head.
i did well not to think too much upon the situation at the other table, and how i wanted him to see me and my heart and not think it was hurt. true friends are the best. ones you can count on. he did come back around to give me a high five, but when she wasn't there. i don't know how i feel about that. i do feel she's not too fond of me, or jealous. i don't know why when she's got him, in her pocket. i feel a sadness in between us, but that could be a projection of mine. i suppose i would say that, despite that, i am happy for those who find happiness with each other. except for those some small feelings of drips of honey in the bottom of the heart, pooling around, as if waiting to be realized and used and utilized.
but there are prospects and hopefulness, and i'm not always sure why, but i'm looking forward to now.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Mumming the Suns
The longing that came with the music as it swarmed my head, staring out the car windows at steely rocks and trees and green drippingness, and then also the red baked desert and flaming canyon walls and clouds floating above, supported by the horizon in the distance. Dreaming as the dreams around inspired: of impossibilities evidenced by the landscape surrounding, imbibing my brain with unreal expectations that were fulfilled but for a few days...and once back to the unglazed reality with cities and smog and humid sogginess and absent mountains...there the glass shattered, there the realized dreams were strangled, snuffed, shattered.
I stared at them with eyes absent of emotion. I had expected such, but a few minutes and moments had led me to believe that my expectations were perhaps harsh projections...that needn't be.
I thought.
And I think of one that drifted back to me, hovering like a hazy cloud of smoke over me, looking down, telling me of my soft skin and how I coudn't be a bad teacher, gazing me with eyes of turquoise, something wise as the rocks floating behind them.
Instead of finding enamorment with the eyes, I pine for one who only flirts about, flittingly calling my name among the tall trees, and then disappearing. I still hear his echoing distant voice calling my name. And then. Just laughter at my folly, to believe the impish glint in his eye. I'd mistaken the mischevious for admiration of a character.
My heart burns with longing. What for? Surely not these boys which burn and disappoint.
A heart and its love intrigues, and as it confounds, I am still filled with hope and longing for its future.
I stared at them with eyes absent of emotion. I had expected such, but a few minutes and moments had led me to believe that my expectations were perhaps harsh projections...that needn't be.
I thought.
And I think of one that drifted back to me, hovering like a hazy cloud of smoke over me, looking down, telling me of my soft skin and how I coudn't be a bad teacher, gazing me with eyes of turquoise, something wise as the rocks floating behind them.
Instead of finding enamorment with the eyes, I pine for one who only flirts about, flittingly calling my name among the tall trees, and then disappearing. I still hear his echoing distant voice calling my name. And then. Just laughter at my folly, to believe the impish glint in his eye. I'd mistaken the mischevious for admiration of a character.
My heart burns with longing. What for? Surely not these boys which burn and disappoint.
A heart and its love intrigues, and as it confounds, I am still filled with hope and longing for its future.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Boys:LesbianHair
Why did I cut my hair? To exacerbate boy problems?? Holy Christ. The exact words were "that's so gay." In relation to my hair. It really hurt my feelings. Maybe I'm taking it too seriously. And, I shouldn't care. I suppose I feel it's a mischaracterization/misunderstanding of my character.
Well, what are you gonna do? It's gone. It will grow. And...it doesn't really matter.
But these are the things I occupy my thoughts with. And him and how he doesn't like me. Why am I so crushed about that? Cause everyone else seems to get it, and he doesn't?
I want to just love life and skip and be content to look at the sun. I should think about how that other guy just thanked me for being so chill and great. And the other one told me I had soft skin.
I lament about the other, still. I suppose sleep wouldn't hurt my state of mind.
Well, what are you gonna do? It's gone. It will grow. And...it doesn't really matter.
But these are the things I occupy my thoughts with. And him and how he doesn't like me. Why am I so crushed about that? Cause everyone else seems to get it, and he doesn't?
I want to just love life and skip and be content to look at the sun. I should think about how that other guy just thanked me for being so chill and great. And the other one told me I had soft skin.
I lament about the other, still. I suppose sleep wouldn't hurt my state of mind.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Lovers & Denial
I'm trying to fill my thoughts with things other than what this music incites: Lovers Dark Light.
Sometimes, try as I might, I cannot escape my romance.
I like that part of me, but it doesn't always make daily brain activity and physical function the easiest. When you're playing out in your mind how this newnewcrush will fall for you and ask you to go surfing with the sharks.
An old lover introduced me to these new musicians. The only lover I sometimes think I've ever had.
Well, it's all love in the end.
Sometimes, try as I might, I cannot escape my romance.
I like that part of me, but it doesn't always make daily brain activity and physical function the easiest. When you're playing out in your mind how this newnewcrush will fall for you and ask you to go surfing with the sharks.
An old lover introduced me to these new musicians. The only lover I sometimes think I've ever had.
Well, it's all love in the end.
BasalBlock
I feel again like leaving.
Not to escape life, but to just fuck it all.
I'm fed up with America, with art and the lack of importance of it, with people around here, with money, with the need for money.
I feel I'm in fifth grade again, that time when I thought I'd been elected to run for class president, I was accepted! Then the teacher informs me with a sneer (as I perceived it then) that I certainly was not, just before I was to give my speech. So naturally, I burst into tears, as much as I didn't want to, poor embarrassed acne-riddled unpopular and emotionally rickety girl that I was.
This Matt guy is somewhat of a prick, I think. This exclusive society is built up here, and I have one in, not that I really care about it; it was encouraging. and he seems jealous of it, so he shoves it right back into my face until I don't care and think I never did and all it does is make me a brittle cold rigid icicle of resentment and drive. F man. I'm taking it too personally, sure.
I don't care about the society and connections; I care about love and reality and detachment from all they tell us is important. Including popularity. If people see my shit and feel better about life or themselves, then I guess it has some point. That's what will keep it going in the end, even if the little jump starts are green jealousy or that cold rigid icicle of resentment which eventually fade off into ridiculousness.
::grateful kids who miss me before I'm gone; fall afternoons with hazy chilled sunlight; smiles on tired faces; dark circles under my eyes telling me I'm working hard and doing well; the assurance that not fitting in is well and good; finding others who have trouble with society; friends across the world; beer; feta cheese and olive oil; madmen; warm puppies; sarcasm::
Not to escape life, but to just fuck it all.
I'm fed up with America, with art and the lack of importance of it, with people around here, with money, with the need for money.
I feel I'm in fifth grade again, that time when I thought I'd been elected to run for class president, I was accepted! Then the teacher informs me with a sneer (as I perceived it then) that I certainly was not, just before I was to give my speech. So naturally, I burst into tears, as much as I didn't want to, poor embarrassed acne-riddled unpopular and emotionally rickety girl that I was.
This Matt guy is somewhat of a prick, I think. This exclusive society is built up here, and I have one in, not that I really care about it; it was encouraging. and he seems jealous of it, so he shoves it right back into my face until I don't care and think I never did and all it does is make me a brittle cold rigid icicle of resentment and drive. F man. I'm taking it too personally, sure.
I don't care about the society and connections; I care about love and reality and detachment from all they tell us is important. Including popularity. If people see my shit and feel better about life or themselves, then I guess it has some point. That's what will keep it going in the end, even if the little jump starts are green jealousy or that cold rigid icicle of resentment which eventually fade off into ridiculousness.
::grateful kids who miss me before I'm gone; fall afternoons with hazy chilled sunlight; smiles on tired faces; dark circles under my eyes telling me I'm working hard and doing well; the assurance that not fitting in is well and good; finding others who have trouble with society; friends across the world; beer; feta cheese and olive oil; madmen; warm puppies; sarcasm::
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