Gisele.
I’m listening to “Breed” and I feel all… and then I hear ‘gisele’ and what “breed” really means, and hasn’t the “art” world come a long way, but still kind of sucks that I know more about the details of celebrealities without truly having been curious about them? I don’t understand fascinations. Isn’t Gisele such an amazon and wouldn’t it be cool if that’s what he meant instead of “she said?”
Ever want to scream outloud the lyrics your listening to on your headphones? Kurt Cobain is taking me there in this moment and that’s something I have in this moment in real life that noone else can ever have, but more than anything when I’m talking about the 90s so much I’m talking about the point of music. Everything is a comment on a comment. For me now, music is both a form of analysis (arts marketing), personal, and… a bunch of other shit like noise pollution, bad memories stored away… the way other people are with their music is the most beautiful thing to me. To me this is wellness, wisdom, and rock and roll.
and the following smells like my teen spirit:
and I think one still might benefit from screaming post-adolescence. If you watch the video and don’t get the screaming then you can fuck off in my head right now.
Head bang, thrust your pom pom, be an entertainer, what’s the difference?
audreyhepburn/strange adventures/pac man monster/ sea-side sunset/ magic
evenness
Secrect Revelation/speedy gonzalez/amanda
preparedness i’m focusing on you and I like it.
My poetry has become: feminism trigger girl foreground beach background humanized nature blue like a color and pretty like a girl.
If the beach is where I belong, then of course I’m gonna end up with skin cancer, right?
caffeine is a wonderful social lubricant, in my humble opinion
Studies show simply being around happy people makes you happy, right? I don’t know. I think it’d break my heart to see all those people thinking they were happy at the beach while they were getting skin cancer… or would it? Do I have a way of sabotaging everything? Why am I thankful for it. It’s me. I have a feeling my “thankfulness” for it is adaptive. I’m pretty sure the fact that all I’m doing is “getting fucked up on caffeiene” and watching a movie I’ve avoided for… seven years… seven years… is it no coincidence that all I ever wanted was to be a writer, and I happen to be the perfect little poet? I resent how quaint and cute I am. I prey upon it to become stronger. I really dig the extra “e” I put in caffeine. I hate it without the extra “e.” I think I’ll spell it caffeiene, and only I will ever know the real reason I did that. Is this what it means to be a writer? Gloria Steinem I’d rather be a regular woman like you than be a writer. I know that you are a writer; it’s just that every woman is a writer, and I really think I’d like to leave it at that.
It’s like you’d never understand because I know how it feels to feel like Penny Lane in Almost Famous, and maybe you do and maybe you don’t; I hope you can. There is a certain magic to us girls; resenting the preceding statement, I revert back to a side of me that strives to be solely analytical.
Gravity. Magic. Girls. Is there anything wrong with the preceding three words all in a row like that? I apologize to my loved ones for living as though I’m dying, but something about lighting Grandpa’s Yarzheit candle earlier today helps make that all go away. Gratitude is fucking crazy man.
“Why are you taking love like it’s some kind of blessing?”
mystery man
I feel like I know what James Dean was like. I think most people could imagine. James Dean I thank you for your sexy naivete: focused to the point of destruction<-I heard that somewhere recently and it rings true with you, and me. I did say that I would take Forever27 as a challenge; I didn’t know it would mean so much to me.
ugly girl complex
“This girls got a whacked out ugly girl complex. She’s gorgeous.”
“I think she’s ugly.”
“I think she doesn’t matter.”
“She is something else.”
proud moment
I like the way she doesn’t care what people think of her. For example, her interest in the following photo feels like this moment had been placed, based on where this article began:
I am trying to make a point about womanhood; rebels without a cause tend to have causes.
I’d rather not think about negativity, although I appreciate it as a reminder. To me this photograph is a reminder of the suffering of womanhood; it lays it to rest in just the right way for me. I guess that’s why I love the Britney “Control Freak” shot. I am a control freak, which says a lot about me, and I am a “true artist” which also says a lot about it; it’s pressures that were placed for no reason at all; does everyone feel this? I was feeling peaceful about reality, like about how its all been done so I can chill because life makes sense, and then its like wait a second; I’m living life too, and what have I been working toward…something about human suffering, so its okay to tend to my own.
I’m no expert on the true definition of a “manic pixie dream girl” but here are some excellent images that give me that feeling.
and then you’ll never need one again/that’s what they say about me/and its how i feel sometimes
Do you feel the pressure to be the perfect female?…
Don’t worry. You are.
So am I.
most image-ey pic of me
If you aren’t “clever” enough to understand me, that’s okay. I’ll do my best. There is a difference in when people use the word “tired” as overdone, or physically tired, and there are a lot of variations of the two. For example something can feel tired, and then all of a sudden have a slight familiar appeal, or someone might feel too tired to engage, but feels they’ve got to keep on keeping on, and so they adjust in their mind the meaning of the word “energy” as well.
Here’s one. I want to get this overwith and its a total microcosmic metaphor to me that I personally don’t give a shit how it comes out, and I need to comment on my elitist snobbery here because that is the cliche of myself that I am fighting. I think. I really don’t know and not knowing is a highly common feeling.
so according to some i “lived out of my car” and I know that I’ve used these words but I don’t feel bad about it or anything, and I feel completely misunderstood, and I very badly don’t want to give a shit, because I think I’m losing the energy to give a shit, oh shit- and now I’m nodding and gaining the energy to feel like myself again. I’m not sure what it is, but it felt good to get it out, and I guess that’s what makes me a hippy who labels herself as a hippy. I want people to know that “it’s okay,” and I don’t know what I mean by that, and all I have to say now is… that “it’s okay” not a bad saying.
This article shall remain photo-less, but not image-less for a description of her beauty is so grand that soon, if you continue to read, you will feel how beautiful she is, simply because her beauty gives me strength enough to write on it, especially the meaning of beauty, and I do not show her image, because only she will let you into her eyes. What is it about girls who don’t let you in? They are so strong, and that’s one reason why I love her. She hides her beauty from the evils of the world so that they will not suffer her. She is restoring her strength, regaining a sense of the wonders that caused others to prey upon her widsoms. We, or is it only I who is still afraid to feel beautiful again? We both know the exhaustive nature of beauty too well; never the less her beauty has always, continues to inspire me.
cozyredrosie 