I’m back bitches and this excerpt is old but whatever.

I’m on the plane. Listening to the clash mix Emily made me, London calling is a great album. And reading Autobiography- also something Emily gave me. We’re so so involved in each other’s lives. I want to live with her. She’s one of those people who I think I could handle 24/7. We’re both introverts primarily, we would give each other space. Emily, Sebastian and Anja. My three favorite people in the whole world. I want to rent a house with them. I want to live together. I love being in the sky, it’s so inspiring, calming. I love music, art, making things, hugs, clothes, baking. I love a lot. But I love people the most. Therefore my three primary loves in the whole of my life are those three people I took lunch with today. I am so blessed to be alive and with them. To love so deeply. Oh thank goodness. Thank situation. I thank the complex, interwoven fabric of circumstance for bringing me into this world and this life. I am so incredibly lucky.

Human to human communication is very important. It seems these days to be all that interests me. But as I am encouraged by my liberal mentors to follow my passions and interests I fear that success in my life depends upon the conformation that my opinion is worth anything. Where as Morrissey can sell thousands of copies of a book written by him, about himself and when read it is practically written for himself. But that does not stop his financial success, but I fear my monetary situation in the future will be dependent on how likable I am. Which is entirely unlike the complacent mentorings of the older class who tell me to be myself and at the same time follow my passions, but how can that be when myself may not be fit for my passions. Oh deary me the future is scary. But college comes soon and this journey may as well be taken one step at a time if that is all I can handle. So be it. Leaping through life is overrated anyhow.



Avery Jones’s wonderful life.

Avery Jones grew up in the town of whisker, on a small farm, with her four brothers and sisters and her mother and father. So long ago that everyone still had a southern accent because Midwestern accents were too “new fanged”. She had as normal and upbringing as her parents could manage. Avery was born with six teeth too far up in her head, so far up in fact that they penetrated her ear canal. She was oblivious to this until she went to her first dentist appointment. Back when “dentist” was just a fancy word for witch doctor. The dentist used his charms to see inside Avery’s mouth and he saw that she was missing  all of her upper molars, 1, 2, 3, and 14, 15, and 16. he looked closer and saw that the buds that were to be those teeth were almost behind her cheekbones. This was odd but since they were not hindering little Avery’s  abilities the dentist did nothing about it. A few years later he took a look at her molars again and saw that they had rotted. He  decided that they must be filled with fillings (Mr. Dentist had been abusing the numbing store if you know what I mean.) The Dentist cut open Avery’s head and added six gleaming dollops of shiny stuff to Avery’s odd molars. The next day Avery woke to a strange noise, she heard fizzing white noise and then


Avery was confuzzled. She went to her parents and asked them what was wrong with her. Her parents had always been perfect people, they were a bit vexed when Avery had an imperfect smile, but radio signals in her brain? They couldn’t handle it. Mr and Mrs Jones kicked little Avery out to an orphanage. She spent her next few years dreaming about what I might be like to …do something. She never could figure out what she wanted to do, what with all the radio stations playing in her head. When Avery turned eighteen she was let out of the orphanage. After all her time spent in pure boredom and interrupted thought Avery wanted to get her brain fixed, she got a job as a librarian at the local library until she made up enough money to go and see a professional brain surgeon. On the day of her operation she went to business plaza b261 and fund room a349, this is where she was told to go for the operation. To her surprise she walked in on a room of dirty, smelly, shitfaced crackheads. This was their crackhead anonymous meeting. Avery thought “this is not where I should be, these people are not doctors, I should…CSHHSHS! TAKE YAH FOR A RIDE ON MAH BIG GREEN TRAC-…CHCHH!!” so Avery sat down, unsure what to do. She looked at her feet, then she looked at the person next to her’s feet. They were bare, hairy and black. She looked at the shins of her neighbor. They were also bare, then to the thighs, all the clothing that was there was what seemed like it used to be women’s underwear, to the midsection, a greasy tank top, the chest, the same, the face, a long beard and piercing eyes. Avery stared at his eye, and stared and stared. She moved closer to this scumbag, closer and closer. Until her face was pressed up against his. He didn’t seem to notice.

“hi” she said in the most seductive voice she could manage.

“wha’dya wan’” her asked, but did not move away.

The rest of the conversation was too odd and disgusting to describe in detail, needless to say Avery and George (the gross man’s name was George) were married and Avery never had her operation. Avery and George became drug people, George was of course a druged up guy to begin with but now that he has some one to share it with he and Avery snorted and smoked until they couldn’t see straight and then passed out of the kitchen floor on top of each other.

Then the new mayor was elected. Bad news for Avery and her husband. Mayor Snarffle was a conservative gentleman, he liked his town how he like his face, clean and neat. Avery and George were the opposite of clean and neat. Mayor Snarffle was determined to change that, he worked with George and Avery day and night to get them clean, eventually they got off drugs and lived peacefully, but Avery still complained about her radio head. Since Mayor Snarffle had so much money and he had grown to care for George and Avery so much that he gave them a nick name, The Tizzles (because they were always in a Tizzle) Mayor Snarffle decided to pay for the surgery on Avery’s brain. The operation went smoothly and when Avery was out of it the first thing she said was,

“gramophone shimmer, lets gargle.”

Snarffle and “Mr Tizzle” were devastated, the operation had only made Mrs. Tizzle ‘s condition worse… or so they thought.

The night after the surgery Mr Tizzle was trying to make sense of Mrs. Tizzle when he heard a sound, it was faint but he heard I it, it said,

“Get the thesaurus.”

Mr. Tizzle did and tried to translate Mrs Tizzle’s words with the thesaurus using the thesaurus, it worked, he found out a special formula to figuring her words he shared it with Mayor Snarffle and they were amazed, the surgery worked it just caused Mrs Tizzle to complicate her sentences too much. Mr Tizzle adopted her language after she told him,

“Apple hole for northeastern bikini bottom” (which translates too “i feel awkward being the only one talking like I am.”

so Mr Tizzle started translating his word too and the two Tizzles lived a long and silly life together in the town of whisker.

Trip highlights

I just got back form my trip to the Bahamas on the carnival cruise ship: sensation. For lack of time and energy I would like to briefly recall the interesting highlights of my trip:
-the gentlemen’s club “cheaters”
-n-sync computer services
-“swaggers” restaurant
-table magician was amazing
-an innocent waiter revived an abrasive dance by a bodacious ball woman.

20130125-004658.jpg this lady!
-blah blah blah, so much to tell, so little time, I got three hours of sleep last night, but that’s a whole other story:)

Being unique: a thought to realize.

I’m Such a teen. it’s kind of sad how stereotypical I am. I try not to be, but that’s why it’s so normal. it’s what we want but despise at the same time. normality. “hipster thought of the day” whatever, I’ll live it up while I can still be a stereotypical teen. while i can be anyone I want. youth is the freedom to be anyone. Our lack of definition defines us. it’s a rare and crucial time that we all can feel. We all want to be individuals but it’s that very basic human need that betrays us. Our goal is almost impossible. yet, i Sit here wanting what I know I cannot have and i believe that this realization sets me apart from the rest. But to the other side I’m just another teenager figuring out what I need too. Feeling special by my own creativity. and that is all we truly have. our own thoughts, our own voice, our own existence is what makes us all unique. From the way we pour tea, to the colors of flowers we choose to put on her mother’s grave. it’s a combination of those small, yet defining components, that manufacture each human being in his own way. If one can understand that, his life should be just as unique as anyone else’s

home button.

what i did today:

1) attended a very unwelcome 1/2-day of school. 

2) watched the movie “he was a quiet man” featuring Christian Slater.

3) i watched this film because i had a conversation today with a very Slater-like man. 

4) wore a great and hopefully controversial outfit (but that’s not news)

5) discovered a blog that i rather like { http://www.bertiebrandes.com/ }

Yes, today was good and peaceful. Happy and reliving. WE had a half-day because of the snow. i have this terrible fear they wont cancel school tomorrow. but i doubt i’m correct. i wont go anyway. ill find a way to avoid it. i can swing that sort of  disobedience. i’ll fake sick for the first time. anything to save me from a tragic Spanish test. ANYTHING. 

i think I’m in love with christian Slater. i wish i could say who else I’m currently i love with, but i hardly find that appropriate.   so ill have to wait for another social revolution. those seem to be a very prosperous business now-a-days. Mother, sister and i discussed business today. at dinner we talked about american government. And OH, the conspiracies! dear god we’re paranoid. because the laws restricting gun use would be a way for the government to discourage revolt, which is why the 2nd amendment was put in place to begin with, so the only thing to follow any of those laws being passed would reach into our rights to protest all together, and we would fall under a totalitarian regime. 

yes, i am against gun control, even in wake of the recent shootings.

speaking of which, i must express my condolences to the victims and their families, i herd one of the students wrote a final note to his parents. basically saying this- i love you, i wish i could have been better. normally i take a cold look at these things and continue with my day. but this one caught me, made me tear up. this child knew he was to die and only wished that he could have been better. what a tragically romantic thought. this was the only time i have cried for someone i never met. god save us. 

i would like now, to cheer this back up, here is a picture of what i wore today:


And Here is a picture of what i wore when i got home: 


Here is a picture that i can’t get out of my head:
she inspires as an artist in. most of what she does creates inspiration for me, all except a selection of her music. 


the quote of the day is: “i LOVE people like that” (only one person knows why the why NO QUESTIONS!!.) 

Now I understand why elves work all year long.

This “Christmas” thing always catches me off guard, being the type of person who makes all her gifts, i must get started early. but, alas, i am a procrastinator  and (spoiler alert!) knitting hats on a loom takes time. I’ve been working like an elf though, tonight i started making what will probably be my secret Santa gift to whomever i receive and i will also make presents for my friends who i feel deserve them, the funny ones.  I started embroidering tonight, all i have to do it think of something good, an inside joke of some sort i have with that person and somehow make the gift revolve around that idea, then they usually like them. (that’s my algorithm for gift making) i cant wait to see the look on (certain someone’s) face when they see the (certain something) i embroidered on a (other certain something) oh, wont he/she be happy? yes, this always works, they are always pleased, trust me.

This is the hat I made for myself last year.

This is the hat I made for myself last year.

Without interest.

There’s not much to write about. No, there’s nothing to write about, except the emptiness of topics, which is something, but who really cares? I know I don’t, so here’s a post-secret I had to make for photography class.

its’s very true, and i do this a lot. I know that post-secrets are meant to be private, but i don’t feel like i need to hide some things.


I will try to make an effort to write something interesting today, here we go:

Last night was totally devoted to the essentials; food and homework. The lyricss “sometimes I feel so happy, sometimes I feel so sad” are lingering in my mind. Stuck there. why? i’ll never know.