you know when you get too busy to really stop, think and process things that have happened, lists you've made, chores you've forgotten, people you've lost touch with, garbage that hasn't been taken out, dishes that haven't been washed, laundry you forgot to fold, milk you didn't drink before the expiry and so on?
it's all catching up with me now.
i've slept less than 3 hours in the last day, i'm not packed, i feel lost and unfocused, my cat is dead, i'm alone metaphorically and literally, i actually miss my mom more than anything, i'm an adult, i don't know what i'm doing at all right now, i can't fold clothes properly, i'm lonely and i miss my cat.
i don't want to be a responsible adult. i want to be a kid, getting in trouble for not eating dinner and playing barbies. when the fuck did this whole growing up and worrying about money and bills and everything else under the sun happen? i want to veto this whole pre life crisis and be settled. i don't like not knowing what the hell i should be doing at a certain time. and the past week has been full of "OH FUCK WHAT THE HELL DO I DO" moments.
i need a pause button and a box of beer.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
anthems for a 23 year old girl.
she had a sad day for many reasons. much of which she couldn't understand.
there were happy parts, there always are, but on this particular day she just couldn't seem to make the good outweigh the uncomfortable.
she got through the day and spent her night cleaning lettuce for salads, drinking strawberry milk and making good with her late movies.
and on the way back, as the peach flavored nicotine coursed through her veins, she lay on the driveway of her parents house, staring up at the lily colored sky, wishing she could see the stars, the full moon and her favorite planet, jupiter. she loved how her hands were silhouetted against the sky. the trees, the buildings and her hands were all black masses of questionable content unified by it's weight, it's color and it's gravity.
we're all parts of this blanket. this hammer, this piece of string, the eiffel tower.
in the dark, we're all silhouettes against some night sky.
but that doesn't make me feel any less lonely.
there were happy parts, there always are, but on this particular day she just couldn't seem to make the good outweigh the uncomfortable.
she got through the day and spent her night cleaning lettuce for salads, drinking strawberry milk and making good with her late movies.
and on the way back, as the peach flavored nicotine coursed through her veins, she lay on the driveway of her parents house, staring up at the lily colored sky, wishing she could see the stars, the full moon and her favorite planet, jupiter. she loved how her hands were silhouetted against the sky. the trees, the buildings and her hands were all black masses of questionable content unified by it's weight, it's color and it's gravity.
we're all parts of this blanket. this hammer, this piece of string, the eiffel tower.
in the dark, we're all silhouettes against some night sky.
but that doesn't make me feel any less lonely.
Friday, July 31, 2009
ollie ollie oxen free
i'm addicted to working out and eating somewhat healthy.
i leave in 21 days for vancouver island and i am getting so excited, even for the plane ride.
i broke my computer and have since finished reading 2 books i had started.
i literally just want to listen to "summertime clothes" by animal collective on absolute repeat.
i have a bedtime routine of pudding and 30 rock and i really like that.
my phone got stolen at work, i'm upset only because i had verses of songs i was working on in my memos.
i'm working on a summer mix for some friends and it just makes me want to dance. naturally i am getting distracted.
i'm SO excited for a city of edmonton karaoke party. 80s, no less.
it's been a stressful week and sadly we are going to be putting our cat down at some point in the next week. i wish she would just die naturally already, because the idea of taking her out of her house for the first time in years and never bringing her home kind of breaks my heart into a million pieces. it's for the best. i seriously don't want to have to be cleaning up after her when my family is gone. she's just too much to deal with and i'm sick of everything smelling like cat pee.
other than that, life has been interesting, but still fairly awesome.
"i want to walk around with you, i want to walk around with you"
i leave in 21 days for vancouver island and i am getting so excited, even for the plane ride.
i broke my computer and have since finished reading 2 books i had started.
i literally just want to listen to "summertime clothes" by animal collective on absolute repeat.
i have a bedtime routine of pudding and 30 rock and i really like that.
my phone got stolen at work, i'm upset only because i had verses of songs i was working on in my memos.
i'm working on a summer mix for some friends and it just makes me want to dance. naturally i am getting distracted.
i'm SO excited for a city of edmonton karaoke party. 80s, no less.
it's been a stressful week and sadly we are going to be putting our cat down at some point in the next week. i wish she would just die naturally already, because the idea of taking her out of her house for the first time in years and never bringing her home kind of breaks my heart into a million pieces. it's for the best. i seriously don't want to have to be cleaning up after her when my family is gone. she's just too much to deal with and i'm sick of everything smelling like cat pee.
other than that, life has been interesting, but still fairly awesome.
"i want to walk around with you, i want to walk around with you"
Sunday, July 19, 2009
thirty four
pros:
vanilla almond milk.
work.
summer skin.
LAUNDRY FINISHED ANNNNNND FOLDED!
chocolate almond milk x4000
"i like you, so there's that"
plans of the "dickmove!!!" variety.
videos of plane takeoffs on youtube.
summer storm force for reeeealz.
34 days till takeoff.
shopping trip!
cons:
guilt? is that what this is?
scheduling sucks, man.
where did all my chocolate almond milk go?
pros are definitely uppercutting the shit out of cons lately. this summer has been amazing despite the lack of friend time, band time, alone time and sleep time. he's not hard to look at either.
vanilla almond milk.
work.
summer skin.
LAUNDRY FINISHED ANNNNNND FOLDED!
chocolate almond milk x4000
"i like you, so there's that"
plans of the "dickmove!!!" variety.
videos of plane takeoffs on youtube.
summer storm force for reeeealz.
34 days till takeoff.
shopping trip!
cons:
guilt? is that what this is?
scheduling sucks, man.
where did all my chocolate almond milk go?
pros are definitely uppercutting the shit out of cons lately. this summer has been amazing despite the lack of friend time, band time, alone time and sleep time. he's not hard to look at either.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
hey remember that time
spider bite, spider bite, spider bite.
grass rash, grass rash, grass rashhh
bruising, bruising, bruising,
sunburn, sunburn, sunburn
bum bum bum bum bum bum....
hey remember that time when you od'd?
spaceball.
play it. it's fun.
rub me down. aftersun lotion and love please.
grass rash, grass rash, grass rashhh
bruising, bruising, bruising,
sunburn, sunburn, sunburn
bum bum bum bum bum bum....
hey remember that time when you od'd?
spaceball.
play it. it's fun.
rub me down. aftersun lotion and love please.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Sunday, June 7, 2009
one of us is right.
i have 23 best friends and they swim in the sea on sundays.
they all feel sand in between their toes on mondays
they all crave sunshine on wednesdays and count down the minutes till friday.
they all fall in love in the spring time, and cry in the winter.
they all read clocks, daytimers, calendars and scribble important dates on their palms with markers.
we all grow up and we all will die in at least 75 years.
we all know the alphabet but only 4 of us can say it backwards. (i am not one of them).
we all chase pigeons across intersections with our bikes, our feet, our cars.
none of us actually know how to fly a plane and landing would be difficult at best.
we've all listened to a record on the turntable as the loves of our lives mixed a salad in a wooden bowl. a fire softly crackling in the fireplace to the left. we've all felt the sunshine on our face while lying on our backs in front of an open window.
17 of us have been in love. (i am one of them).
we have all felt the racing pulse of another from our cheeks resting firmly. we have all cried tears of sorrow, off loss, of relief.
and much like those who know time is running out, counting the grains of sand in every single hourglass of every single minute and second and millisecond... we all are standing on the edge of something much bigger than our bones and our skin. or our hair and finger nails. dead, self replicating versions of everything we've ever known will surround us all while we try to make sense of dates, time-lines, bloodlines and why out of every speck we've ever photographed, we're the only place that seems to flourish with our circumstance.
there's a flurry of activity being documented by whatever it is that follows us.
and i just feel like crying for a little while.
they all feel sand in between their toes on mondays
they all crave sunshine on wednesdays and count down the minutes till friday.
they all fall in love in the spring time, and cry in the winter.
they all read clocks, daytimers, calendars and scribble important dates on their palms with markers.
we all grow up and we all will die in at least 75 years.
we all know the alphabet but only 4 of us can say it backwards. (i am not one of them).
we all chase pigeons across intersections with our bikes, our feet, our cars.
none of us actually know how to fly a plane and landing would be difficult at best.
we've all listened to a record on the turntable as the loves of our lives mixed a salad in a wooden bowl. a fire softly crackling in the fireplace to the left. we've all felt the sunshine on our face while lying on our backs in front of an open window.
17 of us have been in love. (i am one of them).
we have all felt the racing pulse of another from our cheeks resting firmly. we have all cried tears of sorrow, off loss, of relief.
and much like those who know time is running out, counting the grains of sand in every single hourglass of every single minute and second and millisecond... we all are standing on the edge of something much bigger than our bones and our skin. or our hair and finger nails. dead, self replicating versions of everything we've ever known will surround us all while we try to make sense of dates, time-lines, bloodlines and why out of every speck we've ever photographed, we're the only place that seems to flourish with our circumstance.
there's a flurry of activity being documented by whatever it is that follows us.
and i just feel like crying for a little while.
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