Hunter S. Thompson

Buy the ticket, take the ride.

You can turn your back on a person, but never turn your back on a drug, especially when its waving a razor sharp hunting knife in your eye.

There is nothing more helpless and irresponsible than a man in the depths of an ether binge.

“A man who procrastinates in his choosing will inevitably have his choice made for him by circumstance.” 
                      interesting

“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!”

“Sex without love is as hollow and ridiculous as love without sex.”

“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 you 

have the right music very loud on the 

radio.” 

Thanks for turning me on to Bill Hicks, Ely. And every thing else. I feel like I've grown so much since I've met you. And for the better.
You've already changed the world. Because all the world is, is 7 billion people. And you've affected mine greatly. An large change comes from small change.

It's interesting how things affect people. A lot of the things my mother said Wednesday night hurt a lot more than anything else. I've been censoring myself less and less because I thought she wouldn't judge and that I could talk about ideas and things I find interesting. I've been wrong to do so. My mom is very conservative and rigid in the way she thinks. I thought I was making our relationship better by being so open.

She always wonders why I don't believe in myself. I think part of it goes straight back to her when she explains that I am the source of all of her problems. I thought that she was saying this out of anger and frustration, but every time she explains it, it makes sense. She is right.

I really don't know what to do with myself.

I want to do what she tells me to do. I really do. All I know is that I'm very tired.

I talked to Manny Wednesday night. Only because I felt like no one was really there. I didn't say anything of what had happened. We just conversed as a acquaintances. 

I hear so much hatred

Through my apartment walls.

Fuming thunder, things breaking,

Acid rain, malicious calls.

The interior carries outside,

Hitting him, screaming at her

Rank emotions abide.

I go to the shower to wash it off.

new inkageee

Shit.
I felt terrible. She found out about the acid, the stealing, my cutting, everything. She wants me to go to rehab or NarcoticsAnonymous meetings. I think she's right. I've known I've had a problem. I just never thought I had the will or strength to be clean and honest. I used it as an escape. I don't use drugs for the right reasons. Usually, I smoke or roll to feel happy. I keep bouncing back to what my mother thinks is right and then to the drugs. I don't know what is what. I fucking hate that. I hate that I feel so sad and so full of emotion when I believe there's no reason for me to feel like that at all. I don't think I've been through much compared to others.

I'm sorry, Ely. I don't know why I just apologized or what for, I just felt like I had to. You are a beautiful person. Truly. My mom told me a bunch of things your mom recently told her about yours and her relationship. I kept telling her every relationship is a two way street. I don't know what to do with us though. I'm kind of locked up. And that's justified. Reed fell out of my kitchen window, because I left it open while I smoked in my apartment. I can't believe how all I've spiralled downwards. I keep having reoccurring trips, bad ones. I'm not trying to blame you for anything. I guess I'm just trying to persuade myself that what I did was bad. I've hurt my mother so much.

I spent Saturday with Ely, it was nice. I stayed home on Sunday, slept most of the day.

I'd like a cigarette right now. They're nice sometimes, with tea and a good book.

Fall Schedule

Registered at Harold...
            English 101 (Composition)  9:30AM - 10:50AM Tuesday & Thursday
            International Relations 11:00AM - 12:20PM Tuesday & Thursday
            Gen. Ed. Math 118 2:00PM - 3:45PM Tuesday & Thursday
            Non-Western Humanities (Women's Studies Emphasis) 5:30PM - 8:25PM Thursday

When ever I see a bruised apple at the market I pick it up and whisper to it "who did this to you?"

Tim sent this to me. He's a wonderful guy. It reminds me of our supposed trip to Paris. I hope it'll happen. I really do. I'll believe in you, Tim.

I really don't fit with the right place or people right now. I think I will in the future. I hope so.

Dreams

I felt like editing/deleting a few posts. That wouldn't be honest though. But I am not anyways. Whatever, I won't.

I'd really like to watch Requiem for a Dream.


The House Where We Grew Up by Hammock

I feel so caught between two worlds and flabbergasted by both of the different and tremendous possibilities they both offer. And a lot of anger, and it applies to people I do and do not care about.

I hate being so afraid to open up, but really it just stems from cutting down everything I feel. I don't think the occurrences are worthy of their affects on me. I've been told this and I believe it. When it comes down to it though, I'm just fragile. I'm just weak. And anytime I fool myself into thinking I have some ounce of strength, it corrodes me even more.

Dreams in the past few days (It's quite strange that I remember them...)
         1. I felt like I was tripping on cid. It was a really bad trip though. And I was lucid for the first time ever in this dream. All I want to do was wake up. I felt trapped and suffocated by my body. When I finally did wake up, I was cold and sweaty and scared. So I went into the bathroom and sat in the tub for a few minutes to calm myself down.
         2. I got kidnapped on an island. Usually in a scary movie or story, there's a "good guy" that at least tries to save the afflicted people. My dream wasn't like that. Everyone was truly bad. And when the others who were kidnapped with me started out scared and hopeful, they then turned to acceptance and transcended contentment in the pain and torture we experienced. I was constantly fearful and scared.
        3. I was raped by a black man (not African-American, but the actual color black) in this beautiful, sunny field full of tall wheaty grass and flowers. It was so strange having something so terrible occur in such a beautiful place. It wasn't violent either. He was just very strong. I woke up screaming.

I don't know what to think about them.

Bipolar piece of shit. Accept it. Accept it.

Sleeping At Last

"You spend your whole life just to remember the sound
When the world was brighter, before we learned to dim it down
Call it survival, call it freedom of will
When breath is our own, our compass needle standing still...

Cry wolf, cry mercy, cry the name of the one you were raised to believe
Cry heart, cry yourself to sleep, cry a storm of tears if it helps you breathe
It helps you, if it helps you breathe."

Eleanor Rigby picks up the rice in the church where a wedding has been, 
Lives in a dream 
Waits at the window, wearing the face that she keeps in a jar by the door 
Who is it for? 

All the lonely people 
Where do they all come from? 
All the lonely people 
Where do they all belong?

Today is not the day for poetry. Today is the day that hides last night. Today is a mask of laughter. I am too tired for seriousness, for writing, for honesty. It was too scary and overwhelming. I don't want to think. I don't want to feel. Just let me be.

Explicitly So

The weekend was enjoyable. (Honestly I really hate talking in the past, because if I feel something for a time, place, or experience, it's much rather present than past.)
Friday night, Eddy (I've been spelling his name with "ie" at the end instead of "y", but he spells my name like"Alison" so I kind of like it either way lol) anyways Eddie and I rolled with Molly, enjoyed some MickyD's, got my brow pierced (for fuck's sake, an no other), and then we chilled in my room and I lit some candles and twinkly lights, and put on In Rainbows and we drew. It was so beautiful. A different kind of beauty. Overwhelming, not subtle beauty that lives in sobriety. There was this warm glow in the room, but not from all the lights being in a dark place. I think it came from us, just being happy. He's a really special guy, I have no reserves about him at all. He's totally genuine. I like that he can tease me in a playful way, that he makes me all butterfly-y, but that I still feel safe around him. And anytime he puts on the Beatles, he says that it's really nice. But I know that he's not just saying it to try to click with me. He appreciates the love behind it. He's also really passionate about art and creating things. I think it's very courageous to ACTUALLY do what you love. In my opinion, a lot of people don't, not truly, not candidly.
Saturday, I forgot what I did Saturday actually lol. Oh well. --wait oh yeah I went into Wicker and then to Ely's and met Shannon ( a very special lady) and we smoked with Looney. Looney's another really cool dude. When I was picking up stuff from him yesterday, he started acting out scenes from Pineapple Express to make me laugh because he knew I was rolling. I like how he's really aware, conscious and smart. Most dealers I know are I kindof stupid haha. He's paranoid in a really good way. ( I think negative descriptors apply to positivity. PARADOX ohhhhh shit)

Sunday, I met up with Eddie at Irving. We popped a couple caps and then went to Ely's. Skating was FUCKING AMAZING. I felt like the wind, like it was blowing straight through my body. All I remember was feeling so light, just weightless. I think all Molly really does is make the implicit, explicit. Nothing is subtle. It's a rage of beauty. I had a wonderful time at Ely's (as always). I love holding her. I feel like she physically interlocks with me. I've never felt like that about anyone before. I talked about the pretty video she showed Eddie and I to my mom, while she was driving me home. The sad thing is that I feel like she's happiest when I am on Molly. It's really the only time where I respect everyone, including myself. Bell just rung. I'll write later.

Distracted.
Nothing gets done.
Too many productivity killers,
Need to focus.
The flesh is willing,
but the spirit is weak.
Remaining caught in between.

“[Smoking] is an emotional thing. It joggles you out of the standardism of everyday life, out of everything being the same. It yanks you out of your body and your mind and throws you against the wall. I have the feeling that [smoking] is a form of suicide where you’re allowed to return to life and begin all over the next day. It’s like killing yourself, and then you’re reborn. I guess I’ve lived about ten or fifteen thousand lives now.”

Sugar Packet Football

I cam home to irritability and silence once again. My mother lectured me once more. I took back my guitar and amp. Tom wasn't there but the guy I sold the guitar back to couldn't understand why I did it. I started weeping and left the store. At least I have money for Ely's tattoo now. My mom was happier when I came back. I don't ever want to talk about the guitar again though. It makes me too sad. Like the resume Ely picked up at the pizza place. He couldn't make a career out of the things he loved. I feel like I'm backed into a corner and that I have to succumb to a type of courage to find my way out. I think it's courageous to compromise yourself for others, to make people you love happy, to fit in the cogs of society. However, I also believe that it's courageous to be selfish and just do what makes your heart beat and be the way you are and not change for anyone but yourself. I understand both come with positive and negative territories.
Everything is so forced.
I miss my dad. I remember really liking living with him when I was really little, just after he and my mom divorced. I remember bike riding in the mall parking lot in Woodland Hills and him gently pushing me to do more daring things when I was riding, encouraging me to be less afraid. Or rock climbing in Joshua Tree, when he'd harness me and my American girl doll up a very small boulder and tell me what kind of holds , nooks, and crannies to look for. We used to sit on his couch on slow, warm afternoons and listen to The Eagles or Tom Petty or the Steve Miller Band. And anytime we'd go out to a restaurant which was anytime we ate together, (I always hoped for Islands, no one could beat their ranch fries!!), we'd always play a few games of sugar-packet football or shoot the paper covers on straws at each other. I like how he always made a game out of everything. I'm not saying everything was sunny fields of daisies all the time but it was nice. I've never realized how scared and cautious I've been during my life. It reminds me of my mom, always doing what's safe and what she's told.
The more and more I think about it, the more I realize how accurately my sister mirrors my mom and how I mirror my dad. I miss my sister as well. Ely reminds me of her in some ways.

What I Don't Realize

Yesterday, I was really down. With all the shit going on with my mom. But then I figured that I'm really the only one in control of my happiness. That moment when I finished the sentence (before this one)  blew my mind. I Am in Control Of So Much. I feel so alone for the majority of the conscious time, like I havn't really connected with anyone, as I did with Iryne. Well, I guess I'll meet people when it's right, when it's natural. 

Anyways, yesterday, I went down to a pawn shop so I could have so dolla bills to spend in Wicker or in B/C. I ended up getting way more money than I had imagined I would, and while leaving the shop glanced at a few guitars on the wall. This hairy, old dude (who's probably passed the pipe around numerous times in his earlier days) asked me if I played guitar. I said 'yes' and it started. I talked to the dude about blues and music for an hour and walked out with a beautiful red electric Ibanez and a little amp. He guaranteed me free lessons whenever I wanted as well. Then I went on a few errands with Andrew and we had some tacos to celebrate Cinco de Mayo. I came home to unadulterated and relentless silence issued by my mother. Right before I went to sleep, she started yelling again. I feel like the main problem with both of us is that any time we argue or fight, she thinks she can only be right and I think I can only be right. I tried to explain to her that I'm trying to figure out who I am, and where the line between being selfishness and compromising yourself lies. 

I have an interview at Trader Joe's Thursday along with my AP test. Let's hope both of those pan out will. I know they both will if I apply and be myself. 

It's so easy to just sit at home and waste myself away and drown myself in a pool of self-pity. Right now, i know it'll happen but I know I will never be how I used to. Constantly feeling sorry for myself won't get me anywhere, spiritually-wise, career-wise, you name it. 

If I save up enough money, I would like to enroll in a class at the Old School of Folk Music. They have a music class where all you do is learn music by Nick Drake. How bitchen' is that!!

                    

Seaweed

This song reminds me of the ocean. I miss it very much. It also reminds me of Jeff Johnson.

It makes me picture myself working shit jobs and then saving up to go kayaking and rock-climbing and hiking in Patagonia, and Puerto Rico, and Namibia.

I will see the world.

Octopus by King Krule

Baby Blue

My sandpaper sigh engraves a line into the rust of your tongue.
 Girl, I could have been someone to you. 
Would have painted the sky blue, baby blue...if you knew. 
 Baby blue. 
Edging closer, you swing my way. 
 I've got no chance and nothing to say. 
But stay here for a little while.
 Baby blue. 
But if only you could see I've got a shadow crossing your path.
 It won't be the last. Baby blue

Lay me out across the grey hours I should have kept at bay

I want to drop once more. This Friday? (Ely, tell me if you're game!!)

I've been feeling disconnected lately, even with people I really enjoy. Even with Ely (the most genuine and loving person I know), I feel like things are forced in some way. I feel as if I'm in a cloud of uncertainty. I don't know feel like I need to apply myself. I keep thinking what's the point. I remember when I first came to Schurz and I was trying really hard and going to do all that AP Art stuff. I was excited and happy, and thinking I had everything together. And I let it fall through. And I proved everyone who didn't believe me right. The biggest one being myself. I've found I only try half-heartedly. When Ely read me Brenda's suicide letter, I felt like I totally fucking got her. I don't even know this chick but I know we've felt the exact thing at some point in our lives. I wonder how many times that happens with people I have no knowledge of.

Last night, I got into a fight with my mom. She was just being sarcastic in a mean way, and I kept pointing out each time that she was being defensive and close-minded. She thinks anytime I'm not bubbly or happy, it's because of weed. Blasphemy, I say! She and I are on parallel lines. The last time I had something similar was about two years ago when things were out of control. I'm constantly in this void, trying to figure out how much I should conform. My mom considers herself a liberal, but she's very conservative in many ways. She disrespects anyone right away who's ever done any kind of recreational drug. She just gets by, by working her life away. She doesn't do what she loves. She does what America expects her to do. I don't know if she's truly happy. It's quite saddening. But I know it's all for me and my sister,and I am so fucking grateful. I hate that I treat her so badly. Anytime I fight the anger towards her, I feel like I'm pressing myself down. Is that right? That situation applies everywhere and to anything right now. So much doubt.

I hate that my last memory of being truly fucking happy was with Manny. I hate that.

On a different note, here's a new discovery. I'm going to try to see him in June in either Indiana or Iowa.

I love my sister's art, but not just because it's hers.

More Ramblings

I feel like I've found my place. I really do love Chicago and I wish I was a true native. I guess I am though in a way. All you need is a true love for a place and the feeling that it's home.

I love Archie Marshall. (HE'S 18 TOO *gasp*) He's touring Europe... *sigh* he needs to come visit the U.S.! I love the way his lips look when he sings, and how I can listen to his music over and over again and that it's more beautiful every time. His voice and guitar sound are so different, but not for the fact that he's not like other musical artists. So muffled and echo-ey. It's so simple too, yet it still works. I like how it doesn't make me feel happy or sad too. Just calm, just breathing, just cognizant.
I kind of like the live version better....
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=USvPnZyNTwk
"most unique nigga around" lol

I feel released from Yerika's web. I'm relieved that I can move on, like she is now.

I'm yearning for some more ink. INK INK INK so I guess I need a JOB JOB JOB
My interview at Steve Madden was bitchin', I think my attendance at GAP fucked me over though. And that's my fault. I'm going to get at myself. After this week, I'm coming to school every day and I'm not going to ditch class. I've got to start from somewhere. I've applied to a SHIT TON of places, I'm applying to Trader Joes too, hopefully I get an interview there soon!

I told Tim that he makes me mad. I wish he didn't have the feelings he does, or maybe it's more that I'm mad at myself that I can't reciprocate them. He, Ely, and I ditched Monday after Rychlewski's and chilled around Logan. Anytime I'm around, he plays Elliott Smith or Bon Iver, etc. While I appreciate it, it makes me kind of angry. I don't think he really loves that music in the way I do. He just plays it because he know I like it so much. That's sweet but I'd rather he play music he really loves.