I like to see beautiful people being beautiful. Even if they're blonde and wear lots of eye makeup, they are still a sight. It's nice to be told that you look nice, it's nice to tell other people when they do. It's nice just to notice other people. Jealousy and envy set aside, it's good to appreciate the wonder of others.

I like dressing solely in white. Not only does it look good with my pale skin, I think it makes me happier. Yes, the typical analogies with angels and various weather forms were tossed around, but it did not dampen my ethereal mood. I think I'm smart. Sometimes I'm funny. Napoleon is staring at me. I'm not sure if I want to be surrounded by people all the time. I miss the friends who know how to be together without having to talk, to distract ourselves. I like people with whom I can sit and think. I feel as though I'll be walking up hill for the rest of the week, but I also feel as though when this week is over I'll be a bit more adjusted to life. I'll study more, I'll work harder...I'll probably read less. I hate that my pleasure reading has been cut into by various forms of bullshit assigned for my bio class. The woman is an intellectual cretin. Thank god for Amadeus. For Annie. For gingersnap cookies.

I'm so happy I can see my breath right now. My knee hurts very badly, but I'm going to be fine. Today is a national day. I'm suddenly not as concerned.

I'd like to push some people to psychotic breaks. I think they need it.

bring out your dead

I'm afraid I've developed a cough. And I believe I woke up with a fever. Rather worried that I've developed something more than a little bug, I'll be taking four echinacea with breakfast. which consists of tea, a blueberry muffin, and Plato. I feel as though I'm doing all i can to stave off any illness.

rs//LONG SEX

at what point will viagra realize I'm not interested and take me off their mailing list. they've been clogging up my junk box.


...heh heh.

J'ai cauchemars souvent. Je n'ai passe pas une nuit blance, mais je pourrais aussi bien. je veux dormir.

his bow tie is really a camera

America isn't what it used to be. The song America by Simon and Garfunkel may be one of the saddest songs I've ever heard, but I feel as though it's gotten much worse. And certianly it's worse that Casablanca days, when America was a haven, solved all problems, and was the destination for the dreamers. I feel displaced here. Like I don't quite fit in. Perhaps I've just idealized other places far too much. But maybe I'm not far off.

it's so strange seeing people again after a long while. sometimes you want to get away, but they keep on talking. sometimes there is an awkward silence, a few mumbled fumblings. and sometimes I get the sense that I'm the one that people want to escape. it's so strange.

I would not say that I'm bipolar, or that I depend on others to make me happy, but I have noticed that i experience many shifts of mood that are very, very varied. One piece of music can be seen as lovely, uplifting, peaceful, and gentle, and the next minute it's the sound of my heart shattering into a million pieces, the train in the distance only accenting my solitude. It's often very hard for me here, but also very beautiful. I feel as though when I learn things it gets much, much better. Swaying to the side of the sanctuary.

philippe petit

Sometimes when I'm faced with something lovely, a sense of content settles deep within and I'm happy. I do not always have to be the one doing, or participating in the loveliness, but the pleasure of being able even to witness such things is enough for me to sigh in the solace of my place. Beauty exists. People understand much more than their own humanity. Perhaps I'll never accomplish anything great, but so long as I can watch I am very, very happy.

Charmed, I'm sure

Some people's lives are just more wonderful than any fairytale I ever could have dreamed. Mr. Jagger and Ms. Hall must be so proud. And Hemingway probably isn't rolling in his grave the way his genes were passed either... ah such beauty in this world.

unstoppable

My first two years of college have started with a bang. Each year I have been caught "drinking," and each time i have not consumed a drop, but have been in the presence of those who have. Be that as it may, it's kept note of, and it worries me. This time though my rat fink of an RA just made matters worse. Instead of regretfully informing the room that we had to pour out the drinks, she pursed her already too thin lips (one of her more infuriating facial expressions), raised her hands and squealed, "there's nothing to say!" Oh fuck off. She was levitating by the time she left, so enjoying the "bust," without bothering to write down who was drinking and who was not (protocol), already having foregone the mandatory knock on the door. Well, as Keith Olbermann has previously done, I'm saying names and posting pictures.


Talissa Huntsman, Bitch of the Year.



And trust me, that is the best she has ever looked.