adieu!

i'm off to the country to do some painting, suck at knitting, and eat offensive amounts of veggies..

(images via hearblack, fffound)

pure, unadulterated JOY

:]]]]

that's, like, a big smile...not a really fat smile.

okay, so i illustrate. or draw. or do something, i'm not sure really...and it doesn't matter. i recently got over my shyness about my artwork, and posted something on craftster for the first time. if you'd like, you can check out the post here. it's currently featured as a 'hot new project'

take a look: it's smack-dab in the middle there.

girl seeking:

  far off places

strangers' faces

lovers

haters

"i wanted movement and not a calm course of existence. i wanted excitement and danger and the chance to sacrifice myself for my love. i felt in myself a superabundance of energy which found no outlet in our quiet life."

leo tolstoy

(images via tumblr, fffound)

re: non imaginary folk

thanks :]

it makes me smile when i amuse (even if only slightly) someone other than myself.

(image via toothepastefordinner.com)

doom? nah. well, maybe.

my little ceramic heater could blow up, any second, ending my young life.

no seriously, i think about stuff like that. take for instance, the microwave. this coyly benign household object could easily introduce you to your untimely demise. i kid you not, imaginary internet people. i'm sure it's quite possible that, while heating up something delicious, say, hot chocolate, that the microwave could explode. hey man, don't question me - it's a microwave, it's like they're built with disaster in mind. anyway, while taking in the view of my soon-to-be-enjoyed warm beverage, my microwave detonates and that clever little plate of glass placed in the door for easy viewing comes flying towards me and lodges in my jugular. and then i die. without ever having tasted my wonderful cocoa. yeah, plausable. and i wish you'd stop telling me it's ridiculous.

because ridiculous is blogging to imaginary internet people. and i obviously do not entertain things that could be labeled as such.

what i'm trying to say, in a manner of eloquence that would put many a dead writer to awful shame, is that life is much, much too short. some may even hint that it is perhaps fleeting (but don't quote me on that) so why not cut your own hair in the middle of the night? hm? why not declare proudly that if there were degrees available in swashbuckling, that you'd persue a doctorate? answer me that, imaginary internet people. go do something that you wouldn't even expect yourself to do. stop passing time and go do it. go wild. make yourself believe in something.

just. fucking. do it.

(images via fffound, tumblr, hearblack)

(.)(.)

i sometimes wonder why people don't run around naked. i mean, we go through alot of trouble just being un-naked. i mean, like, a lot of trouble. we have to have jobs just so we can afford clothes and be not naked. that's a little silly. silly, of course, could also be assuming that the world is populated with super models. who people would like to see naked.

yeah, that's also silly.

almost as silly as blogging to an imaginary audience.

i'm missing a certain season something fearsome

you know and i know

that if we stared through the morning dew

and couldn't see the sun

everything would blow away.

everyone knows this.

that if the cicadas

aren't deafening, and maddening,

and silent

everyone may slowly evaporate.

if each grain of sand didn't fall

on each other like chimes

and make music

we would all lose our way.

we all have always known this.

still, we forget to observe the golden orbs so early in the morning

and listen for the noises we cannot find

and sing to the music so very tiny.

you know it.

i know it.

it is august.

(image via tumblr)

i'm planning

a wrist tattoo, and a move to some place warm.

(images via tumblr & hearblack)

i kinda love love

i think it would be appropriate to share things that i've jacked off, jacked off the internet, that is. see what i did there? with the words?....clever, i know. why? because i'm a hopeless romantic, goddamnit, that's why. these are things i've found various places. i'll try to credit accordingly.

i'd also like to add that i think it's just too adorable that i'm maintaining this blog that i'm sure nobody reads, but, hey, i'm sappy like that. but, imaginary internet readers, it is my sincere hope that you get flowers on non-holidays, and have hot sex on tuesdays, just because.

i love this, there really is something freeing about letting someone in, letting them see you look like crap and love you for it.

(photo from hearblack.com)

weird people are the best ones to love, at least, for my sake, i hope that's true.

(photo via leloveimage.blogspot)

this is beautiful. they look like they're at prom, falling in love despite the gaudy, tawdry nature of proms. plus a little sex, courtesy of the disco ball.

(via leloveimages)

but, of course, it's not. i'm also allowed to call you awful things in pretty languages.

(leloveimages)

sweet girl, sweet ink, sweet message.

(tumblr)

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lee alexander mcqueen

i was on my way back from the black hole that is the country, when i learned that alexander mcqueen had died. and i thought, "hmm. that's sad. riiight at the beginning of new york fashion week. hmm."

i mean, i like fashion, but i don't know diddly shit about it. my knowledge of mcqueen's designs didn't really extend too much further than lady gaga's shoes. so seriously, i don't know what i'm talking about.

within hours i started seeing the reactions of some of the fashion bloggers i follow, and i started to realize this guy was so influential and inspiring to a lot of people. it sucks to have to learn about someone's virtues only after they've died, but that's what it took.

when you encounter someone, in passing or directly, who is able to kindle that spark in you that wants to be forever a child, to always push what is acceptable, to play with life, they capture a little bit of you. anyone who proudly declares, "why not?" anyone who knows better than to just go with the grain. anyone who is unapolagetically their own person. and it started to make me think about people like that i've come across. and what a crying fucking shame it would be if they were suddenly gone, and couldn't inspire or excite me anymore, and what a physical void i'd have left.

so, i started looking at his most recent collections, and pieces from the last few years, and alexander mcqueen made me smile, that cheeky smile you get when someone is telling a joke that's just a tad inappropriate, or uncalled for. i like that. mr. mcqueen had taste, you know, the kind of taste that says, "nah eff your status-quo, THIS is taste."

so here's to all the people who are pure souls in that they are unrepentantly themselves, godspeed.

WORD.

image via kerismith.com

expletives and speechlessness

bonnaroo 2010.

i have a coin jar that counts my change for me. i know, i know, i'm extravagant. according to that, i have $60.65, which is totally only $173.85 short of a ticket, but don't mention that...dream crusher. i read the line-up, ran around a few times and hyperventilated. this is literally the only way i'd ever want to spend a drunken weekend in a tent in tennessee. dude. yee-fucking-haw.

i need to figure out how not to cry when i see regina spektor.

BTW

that means i'm going to try my hand at blogging. because who DOESN'T need a near-daily reminder that they have no follow through?

Antisocial networking

I have a problem with social networking. To me, it all seems great, in theory. However, when it comes to practice, I fail miserably. Epically. If that's a word. Which I seem to doubt very seriously.

So it came to my attention, after a long weekend in the country (read: avoiding serial killers) that the whole of facebook has delved into some sort of doppleganger appreciation. Which seems a little self congratulatory since everyone is comparing themselves to people much much more accomplished and attractive than themselves. But, whatever, I was momentarily seduced by it. So, I half-heartedly joined this group. And they're all,

"WHOA MISSY. You have to add 30 friends, and then, maybe, we'll suggest that you look like Kate Hudson when you do the angles, yes you know them, the angles."

And I'm all,"pfffft angles. fuckkkk I was trying to be subtle."

So I did a math equation so advanced it would rattle mathmetics to it's very core. It was more or less me factoring in the time it takes to click 30 people's little boxes divided by the probability that I'd get matched with Seth Rogan and so totally equalled duuuuddde why do I care? But actually equalled, "this will make me look so lame."

It has nothing to do with 30 people being, like, half of my facebook friends. So, you take that back. Internet.