Below are the 18 most recent journal entries recorded in celafisticuffs' LiveJournal:

Sunday, February 4th, 2007
6:53 pm	dear john, i am my own religion. choosing to forgo this venue for venting has been a good decision for me. i think writing to a virtual community while i'm depressed is counter-productive, allowing me to wallow in my own self-centered misery. but here i am, typing away as if it's a completely normal process to deal with anxiety. take this as a reinforcement of the words i'm telling myself in my own head. here we go: i can't believe i started to think i found stability in my life. stability is for babies and old people and i'm obviously neither one. i'm only beginning and learning to accept changes and make them work in my favor. looking for the right route, that's where i'm at, and i am so glad that i can respect my intuition for what it is and then follow through. change is in the details and right now, i'm focusing on the details. i've found what i want and it's what i always knew i wanted, but knew i couldn't do it all on my own. at the risk of sounding redundant within what has already been said during the entirity of man, having exactly what you need and what you want right in front of you seems a fantastic joy, but taking a risk and reaching out to grab it is scarier than anything you could ever imagine. things are changing, focus on the details, take your time. everything that could bring you happiness is surrounding you, trust yourself, trust cycles, trust balance in existance. whatever comes will be unexpected no matter how much you plan or prepare. love the unexpected. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Wednesday, December 27th, 2006
7:18 pm	land of entrapment. create create create and being good to others these are the only things i've been trying to do since i came to new mexico a week and a half ago. i think i'm doing alright. i've made some new friends, which is a bizarre activity to do when you've come home to visit your family and old friends for two weeks, but i've done it. the poetry book i worked on is finally at the printers, although it most likely won't be finished until after i leave. i finally patched up my jeans and sewed up some stretch pants, but i haven't been drawing as much as i'd like. there were so many old drawings of mine in our big closet and i became slightly discouraged about the fact that i stopped drawing a lot as a teenager. i feel like that makes me deficient in some way, at least compared to friends of mine who made great strides in their art because they used it to bury their adolescent sorrows. last night, i ran into a guy i knew from high school. back then, he had been the guy getting high in his vw bus in the parking lot, making music with drop outs, and wearing old sweaters. i had a crush on him, probably because i liked his smart ass comments and the patchouli mingling with marijuana scent that emanated from the seats in his van reminded me of hormonally-fused jewish camp summers in the redwood forests of northern california. whatever it was, there was enough to make me kiss him and draw pictures of childish cartoon creatures on a sketch pad in his room. i have only a mild recollection of that situation, but last night he brought it up in conversation, as well as an interaction that took place a few years ago when he was playing a show at a local coffee house and i went up to talk to him. his memories contained different details than mine, an example of perspective shaping our separate realities and our lack of control of our position in others lives. anyways, he told me that he was surprised at who i've become, that he never expected anything from me. i don't know whether to be insulted or flattered, quite frankly. (Comment on this)
Tuesday, November 28th, 2006
8:43 pm	not quite dead. alright. i'm in my digital tools class. it is pointless. the girl next to me is looking at her myspace. i go to an office during the day now. it is called "my job" and it is the most boring thing i could possibly do with my time even though it is for providence cityarts, something fun and awesome. the guy who is teaching me what i will be doing for the next YEAR will only tell me important things in a very low, monotone voice, the frequency of which puts me in a trance similar to a hypnotic state. like under hypnosis, i cannot remember anything he tells me while he speaks in this voice. this is bad. so i respond to him with a voice that goes ----> or / / in an attempt to make him change his tone. he does not. until we are driving in his girlfriend's s.u.v. listening to christmas carols on the radio, then he is animated and his voice has lifted to an upper register. this guy is not more than 2 years older than me. is this what office work does to people? i recall working in internships and understanding what goes on in the mind of a serial killer. it's all coming back. these are all complaints, but honestly, i am quite happy and motivated. new people (jason squared) are moving in to our apt and want to start an info shop in providence, something that lauren and i expressed a desire to create when we first met. with all 5 housemates dedicated to this goal, i'm sure we can pull it off. from my 2D design class, i have learned that i am a terrible designer. i'd much rather be making art. the preference lies in the fact that i am not particularly concerned with details. as oscar wilde said "details are always vulgar". i appreciate and critique design much better than creating it. i know this makes me a bit of a hypocrite, but at least i'm not running around trying to design things with full knowledge of my ineptitude. it's break time and i deserve an over priced item from the vending machine, thereby changing my classmates' image of me from the healthily-and-adorably-prepared-snack-eating-girl i usually am to a person who has given up on caring about such frivolities. (Comment on this)
Wednesday, November 8th, 2006
3:13 pm	high on my rock-o-meter. andy and i played a show at mass moca last thursday night. i drank for free from their awesome bar because we didn't come in time for the $23 meal. one caiparinha, mojito, blood orange martini, and guava cosmopolitan later, i performed for approximately 15 people, 4 of whom were not in the other bands. all of us stayed in a large basement at the warehouse space that houses the contemporary art center. the girl who put together the show lives there in a space titled "robot mansion". oh, it all sounds so cool, i almost want to give back the $5 i made for going all the way out there to play the damn show. the clique claque duo went to mass moca the next day. the exhibit we were psyched to see was under construction, but there was a great retrospective show of chinese artist huang yong ping. i especially liked the unraveled globe with little pieces of paper stating climate predictions for the next 70 years and the gutted plane filled with taxidermied bats. friday night we played a show at the flywheel in easthampton. yet again, the bands we played with were all guys. what is up with the lack of ladies playing shows out there? it was also made increasingly clear to me that i can't start a conversation with a boy without him thinking i'm hitting on him. i mean, it's not like THEY want to sleep with every girl THEY talk to... oh. right. this guy who passes out socialist newspapers on street corners started talking to me about the middle eastern conflict because i wear a palestinian scarf. i had to eventually tell him that i'm both shallow and uneducated about politics and, therefore, could not talk to him about such issues. what a jackass. so i drove to worcester after the show at the flywheel because i was babysitting nick's little sister all weekend while her parents went to new york city. this was a blast. i love four year olds, especially ones who make up jokes like this: q:why did the coffee cross the road? a:to kill his family. or knock knock. who's there? pather. pather who? YOUR PANTHER OFF! the fun was nonstop...listening to animaniacs in the car, going to a haunted house, watching movies, having sex with her brother, waking up at 7 from her crawling into my bed, taking the dog on walks, going to the art museum because i couldn't afford the trip to the ecotarium i had promised all weekend, finger painting, making pizza from scratch, etc. then my car overheated on my way out of worcester so i had to stay another night and miss my monday night class. i got a chance to see caroline's house because she had a show. the out-of-towners were nice, but their earnest music bordered on uncomfortable. tuesday was spent driving back to worcester, helping lauren with her voter engagement job by knocking on doors in cranston reminding people to vote. no funny stories there, barely anyone was home, but it was a nice day to have an excuse to be outside. however, nothing could compare with coming back home after my tuesday night class. one of my upstairs neighbors works for the company that makes guitar hero, one of the best video games to ever exist after the little mermaid game for original nintendo. the other housemates have still not played it, their guitar hero system had not left its box. i suggested we set it up and give it a go in lieu of watching repo man. steve, derek, and i played for at least 3 hours and i now have them hooked hard. both of them play guitar and found it difficult to remove themselves from thinking that the game is anything like playing an instrument, it isn't. here's a little analogy: guitar hero to playing guitar is like dance dance revolution is to dancing. so we were rocking out as well as we could without too much experience, but then their roommate who works for the game came home and completely put us to shame. usually i hate watching video games because i'd rather be playing them, but the graphics are so awesome in this game that i don't mind seeing someone else rock at it. if you play "career mode," you work yourself up from basement shows, to some club on mass ave, to landsdown street, and big amphitheaters. there is a rock-o-meter at the bottom of the screen that tells you when you can use your "star power" which makes you immune to messing up notes and you get paid a couple hundred dollars after shows. it is nothing at all like actually being in a band. i love this shit. (Comment on this)
Friday, October 27th, 2006
3:22 am	yes. i am drunk. there is no reason why you should ever think you know it all, nor would you think there is one way of doing anything. this is how i am right now, it might not last, it most likely won't, yet i indulge it all the same. there are people we praise who indulge their vices, why am i any different? you, you who are reading this, take pride in your actions, love them regardless of where they come from, you are unearthed and demolished though everything you do. it is a privilege to even be reading this. give thanks. (Comment on this)
Thursday, October 26th, 2006
2:20 am	not another "information superhighway" joke. i'm sorry, but i just can't keep up with the super individualization of the internet. we're so past being able to simply create our own blogs. we can synthesize online radio stations with pandora, listening to existing online radio stations is so 2005. don't bother making your own online magazine because idiomag.com can do it for you. rather than creating your own blog with links to your friends, you can have your own del.icio.us account and you don't even have to know how to embed code in a sidebar. don't worry about telling your friends about that awesome band you saw, login to www.ilike.com and your whole network of friends can find out about it and download the mp3s. practically every site i've come across in the last few days allows me to assert my individuality or share my tastes with others. so why am i complaining? maybe it has to do with that "the customer is always right" smell that emenates from this sort of trend, the eau de capitalism in the air. the internet has become this bizarre battle of desire and need, total survival of the fittest. where do the little guys go? or maybe it's just because it's incredibly intimidating for me, chlöe, the girl who only discovered rss feeds two months ago. whatever it is, i just realized the supreme irony of writing this on livejournal. arg. on a similar topic, has anyone noticed that mentioning myspace during a real human interaction isn't embarrassing for anyone anymore? (Comment on this)
Tuesday, October 24th, 2006
7:18 pm	the collected (1) <----bear with me----> there are these children, not quite teenagers, digging in dumpsters, taking my food. they “just say no” to dope, carefully monitored by cellphones on parents in volvos. sixteen year olds hate america, can't see through their bangs, and video chat is much easier than sneaking out of the house anyway so why even try to defenestrate the sheets? mid-twenties and they're taking out the compost and following a myth, a devotion to powers of persuasion through art, beauty, and a sell-able combination of the two. the thirty-somethings are living out of suitcases and dirty sneakers, their little ditties played in basements and parking lots, syncing moments shaping a dead-end revolution. still, here i sit sunk in relic sofas, the ceilings drip with shared nightmare paintings, laundry is strung out to dry like a widow's handkerchiefs underneath a stolen sun. let the architects build the new nintendo homeless and the staccato of dying moth wings smack against my walls---there are only islands in the future, a religion of fairy tales for my coming of age. (Comment on this)
Monday, October 23rd, 2006
5:07 pm	this is what i want. oh bike punks. lauren and i rode our bikes to the post office and were surprised to learn that we couldn't lock them up in front of the building. instead, we had to lock them up across the street. the security guard enforcing this rule wouldn't let us know what is behind the weird policy, but the woman in the post office window said that they're worried about bombs on the bicycles. however, there are cars parked in the exact same place one could lock up a bike. i don't know about you, but i've heard of far more incidents involving car bombs rather than explosives on bikes. i made some joke about "this bike is a pipe bomb," but it think it just worried the woman because she nervously chuckled even after i explained it was a band name. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Tuesday, October 10th, 2006
6:45 pm	"hey teach, let's skip class and get ourselves a drink." i'm going to end up being late to my digital tools class, the same class i skipped last week so i could get stoned and see utah phillips with paul, but i haven't written in a while and i need some advice on this: so i called my dad today even though my mom told me that he's not speaking to me. he hasn't talked to me since i told him i was going to get a tattoo. that was about a month ago, but i've been busy and, to be honest, i just keep forgetting about it because it's so ridiculous that i can't believe it to be true. indeed it is true; he was willing to talk when i called him to ask him if $80 seemed like a fair price to pay for fixing my car thermostat (more on that later), but then asked me if i had changed my mind about getting the tattoo, adding that he won't talk to me about anything interesting until i do. i talked to him about it for a little while, but he was getting ready for class and didn't want to "waste my daytime minutes". this is by far the most bizarre and irrational situation i've ever had with my parents. i never thought i'd have this sort of conflict with one of them even though it's fairly common. a lot of people keep their ink hidden from their family, but i rarely hide anything from my parents and feel terrible when i do. i tried to talk to him about it, it's not like i'm running out and getting a boyfriend's name on my ass from a tattoo hut. i'm not even in a very big hurry. it's just something i know that i want and when the time is right, i'll get it (i.e.-when one of my friends with a tattoo gun can give it to me). my reasons for wanting one are not really that radical, and i feel sappy having to explain them, but i would have thought that my dad thought enough about me and my decision-making skills to not worry so much. he's worried i'll regret something that i've made permanant and that getting a tattoo is disrespectful to my body, both very understandable concerns. however, if a tattoo is the only thing i regret about my youth, i think i'll have done pretty well. also, i've gone through a lot of years being "disrespectful" to my body in seriously negative ways that i really see a tattoo as something positive rather than negative. the end of the conversation was my dad telling me that it would really hurt him if i got a tattoo. i don't know why the one i already have doesn't bother him this much. i told him i'm reconsidering it, i love him, and we hung up. i don't know what i'll do. i'd say my whole day was a bit of headache, but not unexpected or anything to actually complain about. i really didn't want to go to my nude modeling gig today, but i did. twenty minutes late. when i got there, there was another model because of bad scheduling. fortunately, or unfortunately if you're her, the other model passed out and wanted to leave. this was good, i would have been pissed if i had gotten out of bed at 8.30 for nothing. then i went to get my thermostat fixed because my car was smoking under the hood when i drove back from worcester last night. later, i was mad schemed on by a seemingly harmless 16 year old boy. the boy, he told me his name is bill, started walking alongside me in the park as i went to pick up my car at the auto body shop. i thought he wouldn't pursue anything when i told him i was 23 (eh, so i lied, but he thought i was 18) and he could go on being a cute 16 year old kid talking to me about what he did at school today, but then he asked the obligatory pick-up questions, like "do you have a boyfriend?" oh bill, can't we push past our gendered roles in this world and just walk side by side without feeling like we need to have a romantic interaction? i'm not your type anyway. (Comment on this)
Tuesday, September 26th, 2006
5:51 pm	i'll believe in anything and you'll believe in anything. my 2-D design instructor and i got into a conversation last night about grad schools and cities that are good for the arts. i told her that i'm interested in media and culture theory, but would like to create as well. apparently, her husband has the same interests as me and has been trying to find places to teach classes for his exact interests. she then said, "he wants to teach those things, but what do you want to do with all that?". i have a thing about eloquently responding to questions i'm asked by adults even when i have no idea what i'm talking about, but this was a question i ask myself all the time and had yet to come up with an answer. suddenly, i heard myself come up with a future plan: i want to develop my analytical and aesthetic skills because i need to create and communicate through independent and progressive media, whether that means making it myself or joining up with people who share my ideas. i want to develop a community of people who create and inspire, but need to know what i'm up against. so today i wrote up a new resume and applied to a job with a radio station for blind people. i don't want a real job. i want to make a magazine, i want to run a space for people, i want to love my work. i keep forgetting that i still want to go to grad school and that i don't really need to make money right now. i don't need a real job. i'm going to be an artist model next week for $15/hr. lauren is outsourcing some of her ocean state action work to me for $12/ hr. hooray for boring computer stuff that i can do in my kitchen while wearing stretch pants and an oversized sweater. tomorrow i'm selling belts with lauren at brown university. it is my first entrepreneurial venture and i'm skeptical. we need to make more than $360 to see any profit. these belts are nice, but not great, and how many people really buy belts? whatever, it's not like i'm looking for a sugar daddy, nor will i ever reach that point. i wouldn't even be worrying in the slightest if i didn't have a mother and father who think i should have some publishing or marketing office job right out of college. the job world is different than when they were my age and i truly believe i have different options than they did. there is no reason i can't do what makes me happy for these years instead of being in a cubicle. i'll get by just fine. Current Mood: rushed (Comment on this)
Sunday, September 17th, 2006
4:25 am	why i give up: we're all fucked so fuck it. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Tuesday, September 12th, 2006
3:09 am	Well you know that I love to live with you, but you make me forget so very much. leonard cohen would be the perfect music to hear right now, but i have no leonard cohen albums. those were all at forbes street and i no longer live at forbes street. i was spoiled there having everything at my fingertips - music, food, kisses, friends. my new house has gallons of home-brewed beer in the basement, free laundry, and three girls who all wear the same size clothing and shoes as me. i suppose i'm spoiled wherever i go. regardless, i've never been so sad about leaving a place. sure, i'll have my moments of melancholy that kick in after the fact, but nothing as bad as this. i imagine that this is what it feels like to leave a big family, realizing that there are these people you took for granted and now you don't know what to do without them. i admit, worcester drove me crazy. there were times when i felt stifled and awful, but i can't ignore the perfect moments that seemed bigger than anything i could have imagined on my own. you can go ahead and claim that those times could be anywhere, but they happened in worcester for me. because of that, i will never have anything bad to say about the people and the place that made them possible. i can't be sentimental about this or i'll get annoyed with myself again, so i'll stick with the facts. saturday night at the ship room was awesome and was everything i love about worcester in a five-hour chunk. trish put together a show, people showed up, kids snuck in, the bands had a good time, people jumped all over each other, everyone from worcester had so much pride, it was great and i'm really glad i came back from providence that night. as much as i needed to, i couldn't go back to providence the next day. hanging out seemed more important after a minor unexpected breakdown in front of holmes after going to lowes. so instead of driving back and forth again to providence, i chose chinese buffet with paul, reading in my attic room, sneaking beer into the movie theater to see idlewild with nick, saying goodbye to a beautiful summer. now i'm in a new city that seems silly and showy. my room has ugly wallpaper and i won't feel settled until i paint over it. there are three radio stations that i like, but i won't like them all the time. leigh lives here too, but we can't drink bottles of wine together because she has a kidney infection and i think she might drive all my other friends crazy. my class at risd tonight was filled with middle-aged women who are thinking of interior design as "a career change" , a sweatsuit wearing comic book fanatic, and one older woman with ms who likes quilting. our first project involves newspaper collaging. i continue telling a story like it's truth. what am i doing here? my eyes burn like they want to well up with tears, but they never do. (Comment on this)
Sunday, September 3rd, 2006
4:12 pm	Sex is natural, sex is good. Not everybody does it, but everybody should. - George Michael apparently unlike my posts on blogspot, livejournal does not let me edit my past posts. so i will continue on my last post here. sure, female orgasm is as rare as a capital letter in an e.e.cummings poem, but when it happens, it doesn't reinforce my self-identification as a woman. sex in general does not do that either. i'm not anti-sex, but i disagree with any woman who believes that sexual pleasure is their i.d. tag for womanhood. i think we can embrace our sexuality as women, but it seems like succumbing to a male or dominant perspective when we begin to see sex as a badge of authenticity. i am aware that my opinion is not going to be acceptable to every woman. to those who have lived their lives feeling "less than" because they were considered sexually undesirable, sex is a chance to revel in an alternate identity and makes them feel worthwhile. however, the fact is that the woman wouldn't feel that way i without the dominating culture exalting female sexuality. you can feel confident and capable without feeling "sexy," a word that i'm convinced came about because of media usage. (ed. note: i just looked up the origins of "sexy" and it was first introduced into the vernacular in 1925. see?) anyways, i've only recently discovered that i am seen as "sexy" in the last few years. at this point, positive i was seen in a sexual light since before then and i was completely oblivious to such opinions of my identity. it makes me sad to reconsider my youth under the assumption that i was seen as a sexual object, but that's the reality of our society. as women, we're taught that our sex is our strength. it's bullshit. blah blah blah blah...now that i'm a person/woman that has sex, i still don't feel like i could be described as sexy. i totally cringe at the idea that someone might call me a "sexy woman" but i know that the thought is there. even if it's what most ladies want, it grosses me out. maybe it's just my problem. whatever anyways now that it's getting colder outside, i feel like my life can regain some semblance of normality. it's hard to believe that summer is only one-fourth of the year, it always seems like the majority of my existence. i've been told that once i am out of school forever, summer will meld into the rest of the year and everything will be like everything else. until then (and, most likely, after despite obligations and adult-world nay saying), i will continue making them the most carefree and exciting months of my history. so, thanks summer, you're always the best. (Comment on this)
Saturday, September 2nd, 2006
6:21 pm	to satisfy my slight taste for and end-of-summer trashy novel, i'm currently reading "valley of the dolls". i'm more than a third of a way into it and the main character, anne, is in love with this man who has a reputation for being a love 'em and leave 'em type of guy. she has her first time with him even though she's engaged to some millionaire (who posed as a poor salesman to start courting her) and now i'm at the part where she is actually starting to enjoy sex; she climaxes one night, the next night, she's aggressive in bed. afraid of being "frigid" for so long, she exclaims "i function, lyon (the guy) -- i'm a woman!" ok, so i've never really been comfortable taking about sex. i leave rooms when the conversations come up, my friends can attest to this. sex is really just too ridiculous for me to spend time talking about it and i've learned that it's totally different for everybody. however, i don't mind saying that i think i've only climaxed a few times, definately not in any of my first encounters or even in my first 3 years of being sexually active. that being said, i never considered myself less of a woman because of that, not did i think i was sexually dysfunctional. will finish this post later (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Tuesday, August 22nd, 2006
11:51 am	from the womb to my tomb i guess i'll always be a child. it happens often. this morning, my toothpaste spit swirled into the shape of a skull on the surface of the slowly draining water in our bathroom sink. these reminders of my inevitable demise found in the most mundane of things change in effect depending on my mood. occasionally they remind me of poems that preach living it up before you die, ferlinghetti writing about the pleasure of pants and the love game until "along comes the smiling mortician." it's inspiring in a revolutionary sense, everyone dies from the mightiest of leaders to the lowest of people. other times, i stare at the symbolic cloud until it disappears into nothingness as if it was never there. i feel dragged down by the sheer banality of the small serendipitous gestures sent from the world of things that aren't me. today, i experienced the latter due to the fact that i have nothing to do today besides think about moving. oh, don't mind me, i tell someone almost everyday that everything is going to be alright and i really mean it. (Comment on this)
Monday, August 14th, 2006
4:35 am	where is the line. i used to envy the people i knew who didn't feel like they needed to document every single piece of daily minutia. their lives must be so simple, so pleasant, as i was sure that the nagging pull to record and profess must be replaced with happiness. yet i've been one of those people for the last three months and i feel like i've been drowning in my own head. true, i've been exquisitely occupied and complicatedly busy, but i used to find time to reflect among the most harried points of my existence for the last several years. you'd think i'd be writing everyday in order to capture some of these moments, but i am starting to realize that the desire to do such things inevitably wains with age. it's all different, it's all the same. i get used to everything. i got used to my parents being around and they were only here for a week. i got used to the idea that i've finished my undergraduate college years. i got used to having money, i'm getting used to being broke. i'm used to getting drunk whenever i want. i'm used to having sex with someone who never talks to me. i'm used to feeling unchallenged. i'm even used to the fact that i can never please everyone, much less myself. it's funny, if you look at the phrase, does it seem like i'm really just getting used? (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Friday, June 30th, 2006
3:03 am	i can be dramatic and you will love it. hello, here are the things that happened today: my mother called my hotel room in florida at 6am to tell me that the police had called her because my car was left in the woods of a neighboring town, apparently stolen. my friend mateo called me at 7am (as is his fashion to call at ridiculous hours) and told me he is in love with a girl who frightens him. i went to my grandfather's funeral. the sunny skies turned grey and windy as my grandpa's casket was lowered into the ground. it rained as the mourners returned to their cars and stopped as soon as they arrived home. i played exquisite corpse with my father and 16 year old cousin. an old woman said, "my nephew burned the neil simon cd and dvds for me." veganism did not jive with jewish mourning food. after realizing i lost my drivers license, i threw my shorts at my father in slow motion because he said, "can't you keep track of things?" did i mention my car was stolen and was found in the woods of a neighboring town? the jewish law dictated that four adults must sit on cardboard boxes while their guests reclined on a new suede couch. i sat shiva for the first time in my life and held a small toad. my future gained an amount of uncertainty i thought would be avoided by careful planning and outside pressures. i went to a race track, placed a bet on a horse named "art mania", and lost. cousin daniel introduced me to a drink called the zipperhead that made me unexplicably drunk in a matter of seconds. whilst drunk, i called everyone i know, including two flings, and found out that i have no way of leaving the providence airport come saturday because everyone is going to some super fun music weekend in upstate new york. i also wrote a poem during my grandfather's funeral. here it is all raw and shit: it's sad because it isn't sad. it's sad because it's disneyland. when everything seems so simple, smooth--- a flapping of birdswings, a dragonfly on your shoe. it still hits hard like shrapnel in the war stories old heros tell... each a moment of flight of one living thing, caught and lost: sometimes spending hours with lovers in bed. sometimes when you bury your dead husband. sometimes damn, you force yourself to cry. but most of the time, you resist your own time to the obvious end. i'm going to curl up in my bed so fucking hard when i get home. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Saturday, June 17th, 2006
3:01 am	look, it's 4am! look...it's 4am. the words, "i'm going to have to be poor for a little while," just came out of my mouth and i am disgusted. the fact that i can play an economic class like it's a game is bizarre and unfair. i try to be cautious of sentences like that but it is something so impressed on my perspective that i can't help it. i constantly think of money, not merely as a way to pay rent, but whether i'm alienating some people and attracting others because of my spending habits, how i can make the most out of what i have, or if i even have the right to use it however i want. the truth is that i don't think i have the right to use it however i want which means that my monetary affairs often follow parental wishes. therefore, in order to feel like i have control over my own life, i'm going to have to make my own money and not spend any in the meantime. so, technically, i'm not "playing poor," i'm just not going to behave like a person who has major disposable income. i can deal with that. i went to this teenage punk show in a basement tonight, a refreshing change from the saccharine sweet and dolled-up week that i just had. i was happy and sweaty from biking to the show (my first bike ride of the summer!) and then got dirtier and sweatier as i let myself get pushed around by the music and boys in studded vests. even though i was practically the only person without a bullet casing belt and i couldn't talk to anyone because i can't drop grindcore band names into conversation, i felt better there than in hipster bars in the south. i'm not going to claim to be something i'm not, but i just prefer a punk mentality to anything else i've experienced. minus the obvious mall punks (who can kiss my sweaty hobo tattoo), there is a genuine desire for fucking things up, a recklessness brought on by anger and dissatisfaction in an oppressive system. even though accepting oneself as scum of the earth doesn't really change anything, it's still against the status quo. when i get stoned around other people, i'm postmodern stoned girl referencing the way people act when they are stoned. when i am by myself, i read about social structures and try to understand revolutions, but fall asleep instead. when i am with only one person, i actually am a huge idiot and can't say the things i want to say. i think i'm going to stop getting stoned. "i'd like to say i'm sorry for feeling so electric next to you those veins of mine have always sashayed blood to my heart, but my pulse simply races when your eyes dilate so please accept my apology, the attraction in our interaction is merely chemically based"--c.v. Current Mood: ditzy (1 Comment |Comment on this)