on a beach we're dressed in red. [prelude to easter part 1]

a cookie and a flask.

Sometimes you just need to hear the words, “everything is ok.”
Because it doesn’t matter how it looks or feels. It’s ok.
the sun is rising. the moon is setting. it's a weird in-between. but something glorious is being made of all this.

family entertainment.

this is the sort of thing i'm known for with my family... well, when my mom's around. except this could happen at any given moment. especially with commercial breaks.
now you know me a little bit better.

joie de vivre.

"We've learned to settle for surface pleasure instead of ocean deep peace...
for a wispy sort of cliché happiness, instead of this immovable
indescribable joy...because we don't know the difference." - shane hipps

hold on to your heart, cos i'm coming to break it. [i'm a cheerleader. so?]

Reading Sherlock Holmes, I came across this:

"A man always finds it hard to realize that he may have finally lost a woman's love, however badly he may have treated her." - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

also. i am enraptured by this:


and proud of the boy behind this:
tinhead//

let's pretend we're bunny rabbits.

for a minute there, i lost myself.

Somewhere along the way, I started questioning my value. I’ve been treated like I’m some sort of novelty… and I bought into it. I was something new and exciting… but a trinket or toy nonetheless. Like an exciting snow-globe or an array of items you’d find at a gift shop which always seem fun for about 20 minutes… and then it just sort of sits there collecting dust. You can’t really get rid of it, because it’s got sentimental value… but there’s nothing to be done with it.

It’s a slow sort of evolution. One too many ‘lovers’ and ‘friends’ taking advantage. You may even be their favourite little trinket… but you’re never quite good enough. There’s always something lacking. You end up doing all the giving, and find yourself bankrupt of anything more than a ‘position of honor’ on their shelf. Because you see yourself like this, you blur the lines between love and the ego-trip that is attention… and find people coming in and out of your life through some sort of revolving door. You’re the magic giant keyboard at FAO Schwarz. They come. They go. And they leave as quickly as they came. Which explains my insistent and genuine surprise when there are people in my life who adore me... in a healthy lovely sort of way, I mean. And you find yourself thinking almost aloud, “Surely they’re not coming back to play the keyboard again? Every day?”
Next thing you know, you’re sitting in your ex-manager’s flat after being out with a boy in Oxford… a good looking boy, and it causes quite a stir with the boy who’s left you. The boy you’ve just gotten over. The boy who’s clearly moved on to a couple of girls. Gosh, people are possessive over their toys. And you’re being screamed at down the phone and taking it on the chin, in spite of yourself.
Or the next thing you know, you’re all down and looking forward to conversation and a good time with a good friend… and they bail on you… again. It’s becoming normal, actually.
Or, next thing you know, you take the cold shoulder in stride… you take the silent treatment and everything that boy or that friend has dished out. You take it when they take it out on you, as though it’s your duty. As though you’re an emotionless object meant to be slung around. And all they have to do is sort of say sorry and look like they mean it, and in the revolving door they come… and out they go. Again. Again. Again.

I’m not a novelty.
I’m not a toy.
I’m not an object to be used.
I’m not a court jester here to entertain you.
I’m not a whore.
And I certainly wasn’t placed on this earth to serve your whims and be the personal masseuse of your ego.

I am most certainly far from perfect.

But, in the words of maya angelou -
"I'm a woman.
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me."

Vanessa Bruno - Le bel ete.

look me in the eye, sister.

beatrice boyle.

science class.

description. [brightness/contrast]

i changed the description of my little blog. because i feel like i'm lacking a sort of real outlet. i find myself making songs and poems and things more cryptic or being as vague as possible because i'm always so acutely aware of the perceptions of others. which is sometimes a good thing, but most often not. this may be the quote of the year for me. so yeah. this is what's goin' on...

i've been sleeping with the windows open... i wish the rest of the house wasn't so warm, but i'm not the only person to live there. it seems spring is here, and i'm ready to soak it up before it gives way to the unbearable heat that dictates a humid virginia summer.
i think i crave silence sometimes. i'm getting to the place where i can't stand to hear people talking. there's such disorder in my brain, my mind, my thoughts and heart, that i usually crawl into the speakers and turn up the volume. there, in that little nook of safety, my thoughts come out in a pattern of rhymes and rhythms and chords and melodies. in silence my creativity blooms and rushes out to fill the air. and sometimes it's much too much for me. but sometimes i just need to let it spill out so i can organise these pieces of... me.
every day it gets warmer and i perceive that the ache inside gets more and more prominent. it dogs me every moment and from it i get no rest. it fuels my ambition. perhaps it is my ambition... i don't really know. but it comes somewhere from the epicenter of my heart's desires. the ones i've had since childhood. and everyday i feel farther away from what i want. everyday my needs are filled with what sometimes feels like a generic subsitute for the real thing. because the real thing is too expensive. i promise, i'm doing my very best to make the most of this unhappy season.
i know what i want. i know what my vision is. i keep writing it down so i don't depart from it. i keep running and training and waiting. repeat. i keep persevering. i make mistakes and i want so very much to learn from them. i'm doing the best with what i have.
but the best isn't enough.
i have this innate sense that my youth is being stolen.
i sense that i'm not a person who is seen and enjoyed. not in the sense of being "scene"... in the sense that i share my life with friends, family and a lover. all those 'captivating - soul of a woman things'... wanting.
and.
there's a whole wide world to see, and i'm chained to a desk in a steel building by debts. i feel absolutely trapped and i cannot get out. i have this feeling like i've done something wrong and there's some sort of eternal punishing and i can't figure out just what it is. like i'm in hot pursuit of grace and being hunted by guilt. and i don't even know what it is i've done.
it overwhelms. it crushes. it presses down and robs me of joy.
i hate most of all, the fact that i am such a blessed, fortunate person, living in the glorious western world... and it is all i can do to pry myself from the sheets each morning.

yet i fix my eyes on the sunrise... the stars... the flames... all of these little glimmers of hope that whisper out of the dark.

i'm trying.

curiosity shop.

i loved it.

ailments and romancing the rosetta stone.

and let's all give bronchitis a warm welcome.

or a kick in the face. it's all the same really.

why am i always catching something? my lungs/throat are like sponges for infection.

and i don't like it.

meanwhile, i made a quiche.

there's only half left, so come over and get a piece while it's hot!
i also need biscotti for a variation of this theme - ricotta cappucino dessert:

i also need to learn more french. languages come easy, i just need a teacher. stupid rosetta stone is a bazillion dollars. and school ... i'm not sure that would work very well, right now. guess i'm saving up to romance the stone.

will you join the dance?

1. i have not wanted to get out of my bed the last few days. it's becoming a problem.
2. liberty of london for Target? holy moley. march 14th.
3. i downloaded a load of cheryl cole tunes. then listened to them this morning. and enjoyed most of it.
4. i am on a quest for some new rings.
5. and finally - alice on friday. and i'm ever so excited. i would very much like a tea party with my friends. i'm sure it would be just as mad.

i shall leave you will a creepy/enchanting/glory of a tune from franz ferdinand.

forget the horror here.

it's future rust and it's future dust.