hmmm..

something interesting is happening.

i think i like it....

also, yoga: SHIT IS IMPOSSIBLE

no bmp tonight either. i was completely not terrified today. la vie continue.

ATTENTION: WE ARE TOGETHER

i never understood the point of being grossly (in all senses of the word) PDA on facebook. what, like you don't see this person every day that you have to publicly post on their wall "I MISS YOU HONEY". no such thing as a text, einstein?
i suppose a lot of the things we do are pretty transparent. and i'll never rag on public PDA like a lot of people will, because the human touch is probably one of life's most wonderful things and i loved every second i got to hold someone's hand. touch away. love away. make someone feel special- away.

in times where no one knows how to be alone, we can find our solaces where we do. and there is nothing quite like the feeling of knowing someone is proud to slip their fingers around your waist. to quietly declare to all who care to notice, that they've chased and are happily caught in return.

the facebook posts are kinda dum tho. lmao

BMP 8/29

BMP 8/29: waved from the back seat to the guy driving behind us.

for the hell of it. we were stopped on north ave, and randomly there were fireworks coming from the stadium! they were intensely pretty. i loooooooved them.

someone come set off fireworks with me. <3

 

BMP 8/28

BMP 8/28: talked to a guy passing by as i was on my stargazing bench. 

a lot of these are about talking to people. but people are usually the scariest things i know.  

i still love lying back on those picnic tables in hemphill courtyard and looking at the stars when it's cooler and there's a breeze out. the best part is that no one has to know. no one passes by and thinks 'oh, that girl is so contemplative and deep just looking up and thinking deep thoughts.' it's really nice, actually.

BMP 8/27

BMP 8/27: talked to people across the hall. 

socialized! asked for a corkscrew. ;) and got one! and good times were had by all with our 3 dollar trader joes cabernet sauvignon. it's no eurowine, but. eh. made new friends!

i'll tell you a secret, now that i can.
i always liked your roommate better.

the last

whatever you feel or didn't expect to feel,
lock it down and shut up.

flocking

i used to think you didn't remember anything worth remembering
the truth is, you probably don't remember anything at all.
it slides off your feathers like water drops
if i am too entrenched in the past
you, not nearly enough.
if i am the only one with all the details
all trepidation and tangled seams
all bleeding out on warm asphalt
all the glacial oil in alaska
or more appropriately, tar
then more fool you.

bmp826

mpb i went to the party

i love chad an jason they are my favorite and also kosine
not cuz kosine and i talk or anything but he's cool on principle i guess
and even though they'll be mike's first no matter what i still think they are the best people
ok not the best people but so damn

chil

o i guess jason is emma's?
and chad is.? ?????

now that i went to the party and mike was there and it was fine i can go to otherplaces with mike there and be ok too. ezpz!!!!

chad is the best. not that he'll ever be buddy budddy but he's one of the good ones and don't you forget that world. you better lay yourself out for him like MAGIC like he's a goddamn sorority girl at tech, world. you better make good things happen fr him.
i'll be so pissed if you dont go out of your way to make things good for him like travel and stuff
and shit mike asked me one word about europe an how do you even describe europe but no way in hell am i gonna be like, we need a few hours and a couple trappist beers because i do that with people who don't break my heart but that's what you need for europe ok. so i said unforgettable and that's all you get, a cheesy thing because that's what surface people get.

REAL PEOPLE GET BEERS

i love chad.

NOT GOING TO THE FUCKING PARTY

can't do it. nope nope nope nope.

but i'll probably change my mind in six hours, and six hours after that.

nopenopenopenope

noyer (v.)

rumors have surfaced
that you are in love again.
tiny bubbles of sweetness lodged in your throat.
heard from unfamiliar friends,
and you the least of both those things.
those pockets of air did you good.
meanwhile, fish, gasping
thrashing on hot sandstone, pleading and
beached like nothing so small should be.
there are too many words for the things water wrecks
the need and lack of it, like a tide.
but memories are not balance sheets.
they are collateral.
and fish have no use for them, they remain
preoccupied with more pressing matters

BMP 8/25

FORGOT TODAY, woops

BMP 8/24

8/24: gave up my seat on the trolley.

say what you will, but this has tons of potential to awkward it up. what if they don't want it? what if at the next stop, 5 new spaces open? what if they sit down and then get off at the next stop? WHAT IF EVERYONE JUST STARES? what if they're offended that you gave up your seat because they had grey hair, or looked intensely overweight?

as it were, everything went smoothly.

where'd all the time go?

thing is, i don't have time for this shit. the whole courting process of dates and 'does he like me does he not' and butterflies that makes dating so lovely and exciting and excrutiating, i just can't be bothered at the moment (as much as i would love to be). these archaic rules of ownership take a lot out of you. looking someone in the eye and saying 'you are mine, and no one else can have you. and even if she laughed at your jokes, you laughed at mine.'

i just kinda gotta do things like make dinner, and read papers, and look for a job. people will say, 'but you're not living! other people is what makes life interesting!' but we have responsibilities, but i've been doing fuck all for four years. five years. maybe if i weren't taking so many hours.

there's this one boy, and he's interesting. dangerous and intriguing and bad news though, because as much as i say otherwise, boys are predictable if you have a modicum of self awareness and two brain cells to rub together. you can usually see everything coming a mile away. the question is simply what you let happen and what you regret. i'd rather not repeat history, but things are going slowly and i'll stop it if it gets out of hand. he's cute though. can i get a what what.

but really, what this semester looks to be is four short months full of minute long exchanges with a boy i don't feel anything for anymore. they're meaningful to the extent of a phantom limb, but i get the feeling that's all i'll really let myself have at this point in time.

it doesn't really evoke any emotion in me one way or the other.
oh my god, is that emo? am i being emo? maybe i'm just really upset that i'm craving brownies and i didn't buy any box mix when i was at kroger >:|

BMP 8/23

8/23: um, i actually didn't do anything today.

woops?  

BMP 8/22

8/22: raised my hand in class. 

what on earth has come over me? 


in other news, chad still is, and most likely will always be, the coolest boy i've ever met. maybe even more than kosine.  

strange haikus

i saw you today--
nothing. i thought i would feel
something. anything.

welp, time for dinner!
dinner dinner dinner din-
ner, dinner dinner

Loving someone permanently is not the same thing as loving them forever

and if you don't get it, i'm not going to explain it to you

BMP 8/21

BMP 8/21: Had a conversation with an adult for longer than two minutes.

Usually, i defer to one word answers and lots of feet shuffling. New roommates moved in and one of their dads mentioned he was from colombia when i asked. He had an easy smile and i only shuffled a little, maybe. talking to adults just doesn't come easy, historically.. 

BMP 8/20

BMP 8/20:  I'm going to try to do this. [points below] 


frankly, this intimidates me more than 90% of the things i did before. 


---------------------


 Thought Verbs by Chuck Palahniuk

In six seconds, you’ll hate me.
But in six months, you’ll be a better writer.

From this point forward—at least for the next half year—you may not use “thought” verbs. These include: Thinks, Knows, Understands, Realizes, Believes, Wants, Remembers, Imagines, Desires, and a hundred others you love to use.

The list should also include: Loves and Hates.

And it should include: Is and Has, but we’ll get to those later.

Until some time around Christmas, you can’t write: Kenny wondered if Monica didn’t like him going out at night…”

Instead, you’ll have to Un-pack that to something like: “The mornings after Kenny had stayed out, beyond the last bus, until he’d had to bum a ride or pay for a cab and got home to find Monica faking sleep, faking because she never slept that quiet, those mornings, she’d only put her own cup of coffee in the microwave. Never his.”

Instead of characters knowing anything, you must now present the details that allow the reader to know them. Instead of a character wanting something, you must now describe the thing so that the reader wants it.

Instead of saying: “Adam knew Gwen liked him.” You’ll have to say: “Between classes, Gwen had always leaned on his locker when he’d go to open it. She’s roll her eyes and shove off with one foot, leaving a black-heel mark on the painted metal, but she also left the smell of her perfume. The combination lock would still be warm from her butt. And the next break, Gwen would be leaned there, again.”

In short, no more short-cuts. Only specific sensory detail: action, smell, taste, sound, and feeling.

Typically, writers use these “thought” verbs at the beginning of a paragraph (In this form, you can call them “Thesis Statements” and I’ll rail against those, later). In a way, they state the intention of the paragraph. And what follows, illustrates them.

For example:

“Brenda knew she’d never make the deadline. Traffic was backed up from the bridge, past the first eight or nine exits. Her cell phone battery was dead. At home, the dogs would need to go out, or there would be a mess to clean up. Plus, she’d promised to water the plants for her neighbor…”

Do you see how the opening “thesis statement” steals the thunder of what follows? Don’t do it.
If nothing else, cut the opening sentence and place it after all the others. Better yet, transplant it and change it to: Brenda would never make the deadline.

Thinking is abstract. Knowing and believing are intangible. Your story will always be stronger if you just show the physical actions and details of your characters and allow your reader to do the thinking and knowing. And loving and hating.

Don’t tell your reader: “Lisa hated Tom.”

Instead, make your case like a lawyer in court, detail by detail.

Present each piece of evidence. For example:

“During roll call, in the breath after the teacher said Tom’s name, in that moment before he could answer, right then, Lisa would whisper-shout ‘Butt Wipe,’ just as Tom was saying, ‘Here’.”

One of the most-common mistakes that beginning writers make is leaving their characters alone. Writing, you may be alone. Reading, your audience may be alone. But your character should spend very, very little time alone. Because a solitary character starts thinking or worrying or wondering.

For example: Waiting for the bus, Mark started to worry about how long the trip would take…”

A better break-down might be: “The schedule said the bus would come by at noon, but Mark’s watch said it was already 11:57. You could see all the way down the road, as far as the Mall, and not see a bus. No doubt, the driver was parked at the turn-around, the far end of the line, taking a nap. The driver was kicked back, asleep, and Mark was going to be late. Or worse, the driver was drinking, and he’d pull up drunk and charge Mark seventy-five cents for death in a fiery traffic accident…”

A character alone must lapse into fantasy or memory, but even then you can’t use “thought” verbs or any of their abstract relatives.

Oh, and you can just forget about using the verbs forget and remember.

No more transitions such as: “Wanda remembered how Nelson used to brush her hair.”

Instead: “Back in their sophomore year, Nelson used to brush her hair with smooth, long strokes of his hand.”

Again, Un-pack. Don’t take short-cuts.

Better yet, get your character with another character, fast. Get them together and get the action started. Let their actions and words show their thoughts. You—stay out of their heads.

And while you’re avoiding “thought” verbs, be very wary about using the bland verbs “is” and “have.”

For example:

“Ann’s eyes are blue.”

“Ann has blue eyes.”

Versus:

“Ann coughed and waved one hand past her face, clearing the cigarette smoke from her eyes, blue eyes, before she smiled…”

Instead of bland “is” and “has” statements, try burying your details of what a character has or is, in actions or gestures. At its most basic, this is showing your story instead of telling it.
And forever after, once you’ve learned to Un-pack your characters, you’ll hate the lazy writer who settles for: “Jim sat beside the telephone, wondering why Amanda didn’t call.”

Please. For now, hate me all you want, but don’t use thought verbs. After Christmas, go crazy, but I’d bet money you won’t.

(…)

For this month’s homework, pick through your writing and circle every “thought” verb. Then, find some way to eliminate it. Kill it by Un-packing it.

Then, pick through some published fiction and do the same thing. Be ruthless.

“Marty imagined fish, jumping in the moonlight…”

“Nancy recalled the way the wine tasted…”

“Larry knew he was a dead man…”

Find them. After that, find a way to re-write them. Make them stronger.

BMP 8/19

BMP 8/19: Went ice skating. 


I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO DIE

list making

i kept a running list about you in the other blog. (god, yes, i know, another blog, i am so full of WORDS EVERYWHERE, so many words everywhere, god, it's absolutely fucken ridiculous is what it is, why do i write so much, shit)

i titled it 'A Running List of Things I Like About You' and i dated it january 29th, 2015. this made sense to me at the time, since i was convinced i would keep finding things, and dating it that way would keep it at the top. for me to see. whenever i was on there. for me to easily add to. it was a good system, if a bit .. indulgent.

contrary to my belief, it's an interesting retrospective read. there are things on there that i forgot, really wonderful things that i'm glad i had the prescience to write down. i wish i knew what prescience meant. i'm pretty sure it means what i think it does.

i dunno, just thought it kind of funny like. and i read it, and read it, and thought of virgil and how he said Sed fugit interea fugit irreparabile tempus, singula dum capti circumvectamur amore, and unrequited infatuation, and deleted it without a third thought.........................................

But meanwhile it flees: time flees irretrievably, while we wander around, prisoners of our love of detail.

BMP 8/18

so one of my resolutions this year was to do one thing a day that scared me. the first time i'd heard of it, i blinked. and then the more you think about it, the more it makes sense. do things you wouldn't normally do. conquer petty fears. adrenaline spikes. soul strengthening.

so i'd been trying to keep it up throughout the year, with moderate success. i think it would have helped/been nice to record it somewhere though. so better late than never, right?

so i'm calling it the Bogey Man Project. it was very nearly the Clown Project, as clowns are immensely more frightening than, oh, anything in the world, really. but i digress.

they really won't be anything big, either. well, sometimes they will. speaking up to someone. changing lanes. i dunno, it'll be what it is, because these fears are not contextualized by your experiences. they're contextualized by mine.

8/18:
Went on a late night drive with my father for no reason.


we are not, and never will be, the type of family that hugs and talks about feelings. we are the family of stilted conversations, awkward dinners, hurt feelings. we do not say i love you. we carry scars from decades of emotional abuse in all directions.

outwardly expressing desire to spend time with my father, of whom it took me years to forgive for past transgressions, --such an ordinary, everyday thing-- felt like such a huge concession. it's just not done. but........

cmere you

i need an affectionate guy friend to be my body pillow on a semi regular basis plz. one without a girlfriend.

feel like snuggling :3

i joined tumblr! under the same name as this blog. and mostly for all the tumblr accounts i wanted to follow.
great, just what i need, another form of media wherein i express too much.
maybe i'll use it for poetry.

hay girl hayyyyy

  ~ Matt damn girl, you fine. you fine.

can i have your numba?

can i get your numba?

can i have the digits that will enable me to contact you via the telephone?

can i get yo numba?

can i get the area code and seven digits?

and that is how i get all the chicks

repeating history

something interesting happened today...

it made me lose my breath.

it may be a bad idea.

i'll keep you updated, anthropomorphic literary dumpsite for the emotionally confused.

keep your eyes ahead

les reves continuent. 

i'd been thinking (read: fretting) somewhat about having to see M in less than a week, and on a nominally frequent basis thereafter. you can treat him like a friend, i told myself. it's not like the two of you acted any differently in public anyway. even more pressing was the matter of you can meet his eyes, but don't get that disgustingly soft look you always reserved for him. you can smile, but not too widely. and not too fake. smile like you're friends, you silly girl. some calibration is required, i suppose. 

and then i thought, you realize how often you use a poker face when you're playing hold'em, right? you realize how good it is, don't you? stupid. you're not actually bad at this sort of thing. 

but the thing is, i played no games with him. i still hated that time someone mentioned setting him up and i, sitting a few feet away, felt my face twist for a split second into something i can only describe now as distaste. oh god i felt him glance at me, i hope he didn't catch that. shit! ugh. it was always like that. i was disgustingly open with him on just about everything except maybe how unhappy i was towards the last few weeks. 

as it were, it struck me that those days are gone. there won't ever be another moment around him where i haven't got my guard up, and if that's the case, then, it just becomes another game of poker when he's around, doesn't it? 

the inside stuff, the gooey stuff, i have to take care of the healthy way. i have to get over him when i do, and be patient about it. i'm closer than i was yesterday, and yesterday closer than the day before. so more time, and i'll inch towards it. god damn, it's taking a long time, innit? whatever. all things in their due time.

meanwhile, i know my way around a deck of cards.

moon river

I know you do, and that's just the trouble. It's the mistake you always made, Doc, trying to love a wild thing. You were always lugging home wild things. Once it was a hawk with a broken wing... and another time it was a full-grown wildcat with a broken leg. Remember? You musn't give your heart to a wild thing. The more you do, the stronger they get, until they're strong enough to run into the woods or fly into a tree. And then to a higher tree and then to the sky."




You know what's wrong with you, Miss Whoever-you-are? You're chicken, you've got no guts. You're afraid to stick out your chin and say, "Okay, life's a fact, people do fall in love, people do belong to each other, because that's the only chance anybody's got for real happiness." You call yourself a free spirit, a "wild thing," and you're terrified somebody's gonna stick you in a cage. Well baby, you're already in that cage. You built it yourself. And it's not bounded in the west by Tulip, Texas, or in the east by Somali-land. It's wherever you go. Because no matter where you run, you just end up running into yourself.

royal rainbow!!

girls are so fuckin' crazy sometimes i don't even know what to do with myself.

like the times they're all self satisfied and thinking they've won some sort of unspoken game, when really it's because you're not allowed to correct them. you think guys need their egos stroked, you've clearly not met their psycho counterparts.

passive aggressive shit. (i don't want your boyfriend)
competitive streaks. (you don't know my track record but you'll probably lose)
relationship pity. (ok, that's one's relatively valid. but my track record--)


oh my god. please calm the fuck down.

on the other hand, i'm the only one not tied down at the moment.

ya fuck dis shit it's katamari time

science technology and culture

just say you're INTA or STAC. it doesn't make it worth any less or more than what it is when you say out the abbreviation. and any which way you say it, the engineers are still going to look down on you.

because what i hear is "i'm an international affairs and modern languages major, and i sound like a douche."

it's a fact of life. the number crunchers never really understood the beauty of a tennyson poem, nor have ever had the inclination to. or, apply that to anything liberal arts related.

while you're at tech, numbers reign supreme. kids are too busy doing derivations to understand just how hard it is to make meaning of something that doesn't have an answer, a margin of error, or a confidence interval. how the blind would mock the deaf, and vice versa. but that's not your job. you chose to come to an engineering school; that's on you. nobody deluded you into thinking you would be respected. you shouldn't be ashamed, and i know you are, because we're prideful little pieces of shit. you're in the wrong place, it's true. but that doesn't make what you're studying less difficult or worthwhile or valuable than that of a BME or AE.

so fuck 'em.


but seriously stop saying it out, you really do sound like douches

dear steak n shake boy

i think you are very very cute. i am aware that ours is a relationship that is short lived and, naysayers might nayingly say, superficial and based on absolutely nothing at all. however! i prefer to think of it as unconventional and quirky.

i am a bit enamored of the way you paused when i smiled at you. i also very much like that your shift ended and i got to see you in jeans and a tank. it was an unexpected step forward in our relationship, you see. i especially like the tattoo you have that curves from the crook of your elbow down towards your wrist. but mostly i wanna lick it. WAIT! this was supposed to be a respectful letter. i got ahead of myself, love. too much staring at your forearms; it must have been four whole split seconds. wait, does that expression mean two seconds? but i digress.

when you came back in with your friend and sat down to actually eat, we were on our way out. please tell me i didn't imagine you sneaking glances at me. to date, i can't be sure, as i was too busy sneaking glances at you and then pointedly looking away. in any case, darling, unexpected circumstances have driven us apart and will continue to do so. by circumstances i mean we finished dinner and had to go home.

as i'm trying to do one thing a day that scares me, maybe next time i will tell you how cute i think you are. i may also run away extremely fast afterwards, but these are the sorts of character flaws you will have to eventually accept if we are ever to work out, love.

in conclusion, i hope you do not have a girlfriend. i mean another girlfriend. yes. because that would be so disheartening, i fear i would never enjoy another orange freeze milkshake in much the same way again.
this could work, darling. i will see you as soon as possible. or, when i get another frisco melt craving, if we're being specific.

yours truly,
j

lkjsdhfaklsdj;alskdhfa

within five minutes of getting to that party, i singled out the one boy who was into dat obscure hipster music shit and was deep in conversation by minute six.

lpei: god dammit janet how did you even
j: lolololol

and he was so freaking cute, dammit, looked like a younger, smaller version of cillian murphy. and had a really loud laugh and band tees and these adorable stories he was telling me, but

too bad he has a girlfriend.

fuck. my. life.

this is twelve point font but in my head, what's really been the case since then is
alskdjfhaenvjkajaelpqbdkfnakls;woieufdkjal;akalsdj

fuck it, i'm young

aaaaaand we could title this "the one where J doesn't learn her lesson".

but, well. people like M go to parties, right? and those cool kids over there who will remain nameless, cuz. there's a line. so maybe i'll meet some equally cool people tonight too. because if i were anybody else at a party meeting M, well, i'd be someone meeting M. and maybe tonight i'll meet Sean or Thomas or Cole or something, and they'll be to the [insert persons here] what M was to me, which is to say, really special like. and whatever else. the point is you gotta at least place yourself somewhere, right?

M's unique, but then, so's everyone. chad's indescribably awesome, and nothing alike. which means his place is ultimately replaceable (he is not, i know).

ok, yeah, that's what happens when i try to rush post.

TL;DR no shots this time, i promise. and no drunken makeouts. i plomise.



aaand that's my ride.

shut up shut up shut up

oh god friends know too many other friends someone needs to gag me when i'm drunk so i don't say the world's stupidest shit. WHY THE HELL DOES EVERYONE PLAY SMASH BROS. god dammit.

also, when were we on the fl-- ohhhhhhh.

daily conversations

 Daniel:  i feel like when ie xplain things i get waaaaaay into them

and then they become bigger than they really are

inside my head

 me:  so you've turned into a girl?

 Daniel:  haha

yep

 me:  well it's moderately serious

but it's also not worse than things they usually do

from a while back

so....it could ALL be little things

or ALL be seriously yucky thing

but they are all..... all.

 Daniel:  janet did u just wake up

are your hair still in a mop ony our head

i'm in a constant state of 'just woke up'

enough bullshit.

ok fuck that stupid design and fuck meaningful tattoos and fuck le petit prince or at least put that on the backburner for now, i want swirls of ink on skin, dark and bold and crawling over my hipbones and ribcage, carefully imposing on smooth swells and then unrelentingly dipping into bony valleys, i want straight lines and curved lines and nothing delicate that could be drawn with a pencil but a thick, angle tip permanent marker.
there are places for delicacy and discretion, then times of having guts, god, nobody i know has guts anymore, explicit, simple, direct like staring unflinchingly into the eyes of, everyone, really.
i want tendrils of thick ink, and ink, and ink, and skin.

life lesson no. 927

kids, take advantage of a time when your life hasn't yet become some neverending losing game of frogger.

see also: crazy

alright so maybe i have a teeeeeensy crush on you. just like a really really tiny infatuation.
because you're musical and witty and funny and cute and so smart and you play video games. and you, oh, you are so cool.
AND SO OFF LIMITS.
thank god i'm 100% sure it won't get out of hand.
muuuuuurrrrrrrrrr :|

jfc

i am at my most vulnerable and indecisive when i'm trying to figure out the DAMN STOCK MARKET.

will just be here... loathing my indecision... quoting prufrock under my breath...

ugh. i don't know, man..

it wasn't vivid, but so detailed. eurgh. i'm never reading tolstoy before bed again.

sweater vests next

it's a strange day when, apropos of nothing, it comes that you realize your favorite wine may be pinot noir.

you realize we sound and write a bit like what we read, and resolve not to read any more sylvia plath, but more lorca.

there may be more to life than books, but probably not more than half. because as long as anything's been around, someone's had something to say about it. is counting sheet music cheating?

bordeaux with a nice spicy andouille, and a languedoc to round off the night.

white wines are infinitely more drinkable, but reds are thoughtful. reds are the dark beers of the wine world, and i'm pretty sure all hell will break loose when i find the equivalent of a really good stout.

i also wonder: only good wines get better as they get older. the shit ones turn to vinegar. which one are you?

hipster hipster (read all about it)

i got to thinking about hipster culture the other day. how we seem to be this subculture that makes its own self commentary. we go to little five, and drink the pbr, and take the blurry holga-polaroids, and then we make fun of the utter ridiculousness of it all. we comment on the vapid irony of ironic conformity that defines a subculture wherein every hipster looks the same. meanwhile, we find ourselves intrigued by the latest pitchfork darling, pride ourselves in liking the weird.

odd future wolf gang. old educational videos. really, REALLY bad music.

the weirdness blends together and congeals into something that other people see as contemptible, but what's new is that we see it too. most of us embrace it, but we're nevertheless self aware.

and so there is this strange divide, where we partake. we embrace lo fi and thrift stores and then see the flaws of being an overprivileged, underexperienced subclass.

what we have to understand is that we will never be able to do hipster as it's defined. it's too entrenched in the past, with its hippie values and emphasis on vintage. take a look at the turntables. and the grainy film photos? it's like modern art. did i mention the (sometimes) TERRIBLE music?

we? are too full of smartphones and macbooks and higher learning. $69 dollar ripped shirts at urban outfitters.

we seem to be the first subculture that can't ever actually be what it is pioneering.

because we can only move forward. and a foray in the past is fine for halloween. but to try and become it is ridiculous.

we use tenses. when we are hipsters, we say 'i'. 'we'. when we make fun of 'them', 'i' say 'they'.

we are indeed a new mixed breed of past and present, retro with technological enhancement. but that's not what hipsters are trying to be, or even defined as, and that's why everyone (else? hmm) thinks we're fucking idiots.





also, guys wearing girl jeans. that's pretty stupid.

ETA: KNOW WHAT ELSE IS STUPID? INSTAGRAM. FUCK DAT SHIT

priorities

is something like not reading a lot of books and/or not using apostrophes enough reason to not go on a date with someone?

j/w

hackensack

Salinger once quoted Blyth as saying, “We are being sentimental when we give to a thing more tenderness than God gives to it,” but Blyth also once said, “Zen is looking at things with the eye of God, that is, becoming the thing’s eyes so that it looks at itself with our eyes,” so fuck him.

meditation at lagunitas

#messagetomyex on a blog because M is on twitter and he sort of half counts, or 1/3 counts and i'm not about to get weird like that

you're a piece of shit

i was lonelier when we were together than i ever was when we were apart


it will take me a while, but i refuse to stay angry at you

despite all our shortcomings and the one-sided hell that was the denouement and aftermath, thank you for everything. for maybe a week or two, i was so, so happy. i hope that, however brief, i sometimes made you happy too

maow maow maow

so everyone and their dog is getting married on facebook these days, which leads to interesting conversations among girls like what would you like your wedding to be like, does it matter what kind of ring there is, how do you want to be proposed to. do you wanna pick out the ring or be surprised, what color dress do you want your bridesmaids to wear.

and then you start thinking about it.

you know what kind of proposal would be nice? a completely silent one. one without pretentious knee bending and "so for as long as i've known you blah blah blah i wanna spend the rest of my life with you" romantic bullshit. we'd be sitting on a couch and you'd reach over and place a ring on my hand. and that would be that.

after all, i've never required much, especially from a boy. but the important parts are really, really important.

things like a ring, and the certainty that she'll say yes, that you want her to say yes. these are the things that matter. not the right words or the fancy dinner or what you wear.

aaaaaanyway enough estrogen mania. back to normalish, ladies and gents

lmao

still just a baby baby

i'm that ho.

you know, the one they refer to when saying 'bros before hos'.

and i know it doesn't matter who broke whose heart, or how it ended. you have your loyalties, and i can respect that.

i don't understand, though. i've never wanted anyone to stop being friends with hirthy or tim or sang. but, if i'm writing this entry and i don't get it, it's not like the compy's gonna magically enlighten me. so whatever.

you can wallow in immaturity for as long as you like, but this isn't like that thing where you put your hands over your eyes and believe nobody else sees you.

eventually we're gonna have to learn to live and let live.

while we're working on that, you realize you're kind of a shitty person, right? ok just puttin' that out there.
you have your adages, but damn, son. grow up.

shots shots shots

ohhhh my god.

from now on i'm sticking with beer. and never drinking that much again.

i dont even really remember what i did or said last night but i'm pretty sure there were some gems there. OF STUPIDITY.

empirically, last night has taught us that i am an indiscriminately handsy drunk.

and while we're at it, you wanna go with wrong assumptions?

WRONG ASSUMPTION: BECAUSE SWEET TEA VODKA TASTES MORE LIKE SWEET TEA AND LESS LIKE VODKA THIS MEANS IT HAS LESS VODKA IN IT

why don't you look happy in any of your pictures?

surely i can't be the only one who's noticed.

poo tee weet?

remnants. i like that word.
i've been thinking about how much they're worth, but mostly, more essentially, more truthfully,
i've been thinking about how much our remnants are worth.

you know, your friends that i won't talk to again. your sunglasses that i might be giving back to you because it's buried deep in a box that is itself buried in my closet. at least you'd wear them again. the notes i left you that you probably threw away. so it goes. but you can't be faulted for that; i keep everything. i don't have an answer, presently.

in other news. even though we're just acquaintances, i think kosine is one of the coolest boys i've ever met. :)

wave to the camera

oh my god tomorrow is the last time i'll see ben before he goes back to new zealand I'M GONNA CRY GOD DAMMIT

i'm far too sentimental for my own good.

and i hate goodbyes.

linear programming sux

this is the fifth fucking time i'm reteaching myself the simplex algorithm. I GIVE, YOU BASTARDS. i'll fucking commit it to memory. watch it be the last time i'll ever use it. jesus christ. i can literally pull four separate composition books off my shelf and find examples of it.

this is disgusting.

x factor

e.lefkovitz: hmph i know all the secrets

 me: yeah

  maybe we should like form a club or osmething

  with capes

 e.lefkovitz: yes capes i want those

 me: i can draw a cucco on the treehouse

  no girls allowed

 e.lefkovitz: oh man

  yes yes

2:21 PM me: oh wait

 e.lefkovitz: no girls or chickens

 me: we're at tech

 e.lefkovitz: haha

  that sign is actually on the edge of campus

 me: haha

  there's one in klaus that says ESPECIALLY no girls allowed

2:22 PM e.lefkovitz: man sometimes when i wanna play video games i feel like that's the only place i can go

  i lived in a house featuring 30 other dudes

  and you know what i saw like every freaking day

  ONE OR MORE GIRLS

  GIRL(S)

 me: what really

 e.lefkovitz: yes friggin a man where da video games at

 me: ....

  i think i sense the problem here

2:23 PM e.lefkovitz: is it um

  the girls?

 me: hahaha

  

hold on john

it's not easy. in fact, it's so, so difficult.

to fall and stay in love.

so when you see people around you together, even people you don't like or people you don't think deserve it (selfish, no?)

let them go in peace.

wish them well, and be patient.

everyone is just trying to be happy.



but, i'm getting off facebook

And this of course is Aragorn’s sword Anduril, Flame of the West, re-forged from the shards of Narsil, given to me by Viggo Mortensen. Now, this has nothing to do with the metaphor - I just want to remind everyone that I have this.

crush

Sorry about the bony elbows,
     sorry we lived here,
          sorry about the scene
               at the bottom of the stairwell
and how i ruined everything
                    by saying it out loud.

Especially that,
but i should have known. you see
i take the parts that i remember and stitch
them back together to make a creature that
will do what i say or love me back.

_Richard Siken

royalty

J: have unrealistically high expectations for Watch The Throne and 99% sure they're gonna be met

Matt:  :|

what is Watch The Throne?

OH

OHH

 Sent at 10:10 AM on Monday

 me:  yeah

yeahhh.

 Matt:  yeah.

 me:  shiet

not even sure if it's leaked, set to come out officially in a week. but damn, son.  get ready.