Saturday, March 21, 2009

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Friday, February 20, 2009

I still some how, hope I end up with you...

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Monday, February 2, 2009

Why can't the past just die...?

or maybe it did and that's why it keeps coming back to haunt me.

We want to recover and heal, move on, move past, let this come to rest, settled in earth and topped with a stone.

This is tearing at a scab that we covered with a band aid. This is ripping the band aid off, then watching the wound bleed.

"For I am weak, and starving for mercy..."

Maybe I should drop out?
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Thursday, December 25, 2008

To hell with the holidays.



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Tuesday, December 16, 2008

The price you pay for taking sides is how you remind me of what I really am.



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Monday, December 15, 2008

Why do I hate her so much, all of a sudden?
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Friday, December 12, 2008

I can't tell if I love her or hate her anymore. If I'm happy that she's unhappy out of jealousy or the feeling that it's justice for..something. Something I don't know. Or that I'm happy she's unhappy out of hate.

Tattoos quite are addicting, I suppose. She got another one and I'm jealous she got it. Not because I don't have one. It's so close to where she got her first one and it's from House of Leaves. I'm still missing my copy. I want it back. alksjdf lkasjd lkaj dlfja;sdifj

Maybe it doesn't help that I'm raging from earlier. What gave me the bright idea to go check her page?

I don't even have her ridiculous bracelet and I want it back. Though by no means did I want to give it up in the first place.

"We'll fast forward to a few years later,
No one knows except the both of us.
And I have honoured your request for silence
You've washed your hands clean of this."

It's 7:09 in the morning, I shouldn't be up. We'll revisit this later.
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Tuesday, December 2, 2008

The quote I want won't fit. (as seen on dA)
I've got a concept in my head. It's making me ancy. I wish I had thought of it earlier. It's a shame I'm not feeling mizerable enough to excecute it properly. Substitutes could be used...and while it may be athestically appeasing, I couldn't like it. This is one of those ideas that would be perilously close to me.

So...I guess the question is...what will an artist do for its art?

Hahaha, it's a good thing that I don't consider myself an artist. I've got such a sick sense of humour.

"No artist is ever morbid. The artist can express anything." ~ Oscar Wilde. My typical go to quote whenever I feel the need to do anything particularly grotesque. But..since I'm not an artist...is my idea morbid...? I just know realised I'll have to give a mature dealy...the first of it's kind in my gallery. Good thing the image hasn't been produced yet...I have photo editting to do. You may see the images later. Or...you may not.

All this talk is making me think of "The Hunger Artist" by Kafka; it was a stupid story, "riddled with symbolism." A blatant rip off of the a-typical starving artist, starving the its art. It's impossible for a person so contaminated by depression, anxiety, anger, pain in general to create something merely for the sake of creating something. No, there must always be an ulterior motive.

So they say anyways. I never liked what THEY said, anyways.

hahahahahahahahhahahah.

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Monday, December 1, 2008

I think I understand why people find fog so disconcerting.

It moves, quitely, hardly seen, and by doing so, it makes everything else still and quiet. When it's thick enough, all you can hear is the drip drip of condesation leaking from high places, falling at a rapid rate. Things become distorted...the things you can see anyways.

I don't think the lack of visuals bother people so much as the silence. It's almost deafening. Of course...my observations are highly suspect as it's after 1 am on a monday morning, and everyone in my neighbourhood is sleeping

But noise just seems out of place, even for the middle of the night.

I love the fog for that. For the mystery, for the deafening silence. For it's invisible, still movement. It's beautiful. The chill even, is wonderful. I just wish I had someone to experience the chill with me.

But it's my own damn fault.
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Wednesday, November 26, 2008

The Shins
Caring is Creepy:


New Slang:


Girl on the Wing:

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