It's been a long while. I'm not connecting with this blog as much as I used to. Now I just think and think and make lists. Silly girl

i met an awesome person yesterday.

so i spot this very attractive guy in my bus in ohama, nebraska, and ask if the seat's taken... he says "no". and then it begins lol. we talk all night, and then --- ---- and then we cuddled together. He's coming up to Portland to visit me in July and I'm seeing him in August.
 I got that hope manneeee :)

It’s discouraging that when I look back on places and people, I remember so little. Now, anytime I see something beautiful (which is quite often) I try my best in hoping that it has been permanently seared in whatever kind if memory bank I have. I hope to remember. I think back to the condominium that I lived in for ten years, and am disheartened to find that I have no recollection of what its outside looked like. I just remember thinking that the swirling shade the trees cast on the front of the house was very pretty.

Sometimes, I find it hard to believe that I lived in such a different way than I do now. All I used to think about were ways I could look good or appeal to others. No lie, I still do a little, I think everyone does to some extent, but for the majority of the time, I’m focused on other things, natural organic things that offer themselves, in small moments, nevertheless potent ones.

Whenever I read a book, I realize the practical impossibility of me actually writing one. Silly. At least for now. My attention span probably has a bit of influence over any diligence I might suggest.

As silly as it seems, I’m really excited for graduation. It’s a year late, I know but finally. I’m listening to The National’s new album. It’s enjoyable. I love the lead singer’s voice. While it may be monotonous to some, I find it different, all low and rusty. Fake Empire off of their album, Boxer, will always be a favorite. I love how simple it is. A lot of people’s singing voice is different from their speaking voice. I feel like both of his are the same. It kind of reminds me of John Lennon’s Imagine not in content, but language. How just the piano and his voice are in such a union. Tim showed me a song by John that I’d never heard before and it was very nice. I’m so caught between John and George. Deep down, John will always belong to my sister. George was (ehem Ely) the soul, but I love how he didn’t need to say it to show it. It didn’t seem to me like he had anything to prove to anyone. He just lived for peace within himself. That’s very beautiful. I use beautiful a lot, lol. It’s because so many things are! Here are some other words I could use…  stunning, striking, lovely, picturesque, spectacular, remarkable, arresting, salient, exquisite, divine, celestial…

Light

The sky

Clouds

Water

Shadows/Shade

These are things, which in any state, equal the likes of all previously mentioned descriptors.

I wonder what moments of insecurity people experience, especially those who seem very confident and secure. I used to watch music videos of pop stars and wished  I could be as “pretty” as they were. I was such a little girl. I still am though in many ways. I feel like all of us have moments when we’re brought to our core, the person we were then. It reminds me of To Be Treated Right by Terry Reid. The times where we pray, even though we may not even believe in god. We’re brought to absolute desperation. It’s quite lovely. When we cry like little babies. When we feel helpless and hopeless. People are so layered and multifaceted. I love how human we all are, no matter if we show otherwise.

I think the best gifts are mix CD’s. It’s honestly the only way I can really read a person and understand how I connect with them. I really adore the CD Tim made for me. It explains perfectly, in plain sight, who he is and how he feels. Music can encode so much. It’s so much better than anything I could say. One day I’ll make it instead of just play it.

I hate how it's so hard for me to sit down and read. It stems from my impatience, I guess. Or maybe I'm just very picky in regards to writing styles. Maybe a little of both.

I've been trying to figure out what I can do on the bus ride to Oregon.. I'll be passing through Nebraska and Colorado, and I hope to meet some cool people on the way there.

I need to go to Target bad. I want to get a new, fresh notebook for my journey. a bunch of new things for it.

I can't wait to dye my hair this week. The blonde needs to be back.

Ramblings

I'm ready to raid the fuck out of Urban, and fucking hard.

I've always said I'd never be one to try coke. And now I find myself doing exactly that. I'd like to try everything, be as stimulated at possible, bur still try everything once.

Eric is very intriguing.

Maybe I'm changing for the worse. I really don't  know. I don't know who to trust, or who I can count on. I just feel like I'm dragging myself around, all sluggish and empty and confused. I need to stop feeling so sorry for myself. STOP STOP STOP
I see myself becoming a lot more calm though, more okay staring into empty space, watching how slow the minutes pass.

I miss my weight from a couple years ago. I haven't fallen back into habits but I feel like I'm about to. I should lose weight in a healthy way

I'm looking forward to Oregon and Heather. And the 4th of July. I know I'll miss Andrew greatly though.

you're very frustrating. your way of life now cannot coincide with some of your dreams.

High Hope

Glen Hansard talked so much about hope. But he didn't need to. It was fused into his music and performance. He gave me hope. He made me feel like I didn't need to do drugs to experience something different, that they were okay to take but I really shouldn't base my happiness on them.

I hung out with Pedro, Adam and Gabe yesterday. Good times. Pedro is very special. I saw some of his flaws yesterday, but I didn't put them against him. It made him seem so human. I love that.

I love these two Hunter Thompson books. 

    "Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming "Wow! What a Ride!"

     "Music has always been a matter of Energy to me, a question of Fuel. Sentimental people call it Inspiration, but what they really mean is Fuel. I have always needed Fuel. I am a serious consumer. On some nights I still believe that a car with the gas needle on empty can run about fifty more miles if ou have the right music very loud on the radio."

I can't believe that our society puts money as an equivalent to art. We pay ten bucks for a piece of someone, polished in a nice plastic case. I really want to go to the Burning Man Festival. Everything is traded; there's no exchange of money. And everything is handmade.