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