I've tried to sit down and write a blog entry about five times now, five different days too. Maybe i'm over thinking about what I writer, or maybe its because that I have so much in my brain right now that everything is racing with my absorbtion of random useless facts such as harmonica chords(Eb G B) or the worst offenders in animal cruelty (M&Ms, Monsanto, KFC, Mcdonalds...the list really goes on) or the chemical makeup of MDMA (I'm not a drug user, just an intregued chemist...) also, I'm knitting a toy fetus.
Not working (yes, I'm still unemployed) leaves me to think about alot of things, or do alot of things, and also not being able to afford ALOT of things- rollerskates, jacket, t-shirt paints, t-shirts, buttons, dvd sets of nip/tuck season two, skins, sealab 2021 and many others (there the only ones I can think about right now as it is currently 8am, mam got me up because of the evil fumagation man came at 7am, and i'm currently dying of cold and being up at an ungodly hour.
Yeah, i'm really lazy.
I've been going through a bob dylan phase lately, thus the harmonica chordsand more enhanced of my usual dirty hobo mixed with crazy boho apperiance.
I'm not unhappy. It's a great realisation when you think about where you are in life, and i'm not unhappy. Theres many things that could improve it, definetly things that could make it worse, but really what are those things compared to knowing everythings going to be okay? No matter how bad it looks for you or other people, everyones going to be damn fine. It's a peaceful sort of love that comes with that, but not necassarily tranquil, more excited for the things to come. I mean, if I survived a whole heep of horrible situations, I can most certainly over come more, if need be. And there's always a reward for overcoming things like that, emotional, physically or even spiritual, so really, i'm not unhappy in my little micro-cosmic universe.
I don't know, but I feel my heart tugging everytime I read about a disaster or a war or unspeakable acts of cruelty. Not the kind of "aw...that sucks, i'm going to go back and think about how much MY life sucks because I don't have whatever product which is going to make me super happy, coz it said so on the add..." kinda tugging, more of a "I HAVE TO HELP THEM SOME HOW" kinda tug.
But I don't know how. I mean, I volunteer at Oxfam, i'm a vegan, i'm calling the animal shelter about volunteering for them too, I don't wear sweat-shop made chucks, I have possibly read every chomsky book he's ever written, I keep brand clothing to a minimum and I don't let myself be controlled by adds. Saying that, in a previous paragraph, I was going on about how I want a jacket and rollerskates (for the winter- as i'm freezing my ass off, and for rollerderby, possibly the grooviest sport yet)- its hard being in constant balance of apathetic whimsicalness and empathetic social consciousness. Either way, I really wish I did more.
Sometimes I wish I was always apathetic and whimsical, because then I wouldn't be angry with myself for not being able to do more (be it due to age restrictions, money restrictions, parental restrictions...) and then I wouldn't always be so worried about the world.
When I try tho, to be like those peoples... (I know I shouldn't judge, or be mad at them, but seriously, if the only thing you care about is boys, fashion, partying and gossipy shit, you're asking for a target being painted on your back by people like me) I always feel so empty, its as if the weight of the worlds problems keeps me going, makes me, me.
This is a real self-reflection, self absorbtion post and I apologise, its just been playing on my mind for a while. My brain is going to explode, I believe. Its filled with too much nonscence, and i'm always cramming more in there.
Anyway, i'm going to go find a job and a solution to all the worlds problems...
Bye! xox
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Everything was beautiful, and nothing hurt..thankyou, Mr Vonnegut
What possessed me to start a blog, I don't know. Its just a fancy to pass the time, I suppose.
Would I be over-analysing the urge to actually begin a blog by saying it would be a secret cry for international-web notarity? Hidden fantasys of billions of fans and dollars?
Yes. Yes I would.
I really need to find a new job. I've been spending far too much time thinking. Thats a bad thing. Usually, when I think, I come up with new reasons not to do certain things, or do certain things, or wonder about certain things, which leads me into trouble, as either i've offended someone by my doing or not doing of certain things, or my brain exploded from the vast amount of infomation i've tried to absorb because a new found (well...new found to me, probably not to others) sudden interest of the topic.
Or I could go back to school. That would kill a few brain cells and a half. I'll be too focused on spouting force-fed bullshit back to my teachers to really learn things.
Yay. School *insert eye roll here*... I shouldn't hate school so much, I mean, I'm lucky because I never got forced to go to a private school (Hypothetical situation- me enter private school. Three days later, me get forced of private school property due to doing basically everything i'm not supposed to, like think.) and Bradfield college was pretty cool... but still, I hate it with a passion. Its good for others, who are good at things, not lazy slacking philosophers like me.
At this point its time to point out i'm an ex-school student who is 17 and should really do something but does not know what to do.
My parents are lovely. Like seriously, they're awesome. They let me change into a hippy-dippy art college, and when I couldn't hack that to complete my HSC, they let me leave...but not without pre-requists, which I believe, are necssary, otherwise i'd be sleeping all day.
1) get off yo' ass and get a job, fatty. And start being healthy. Being vegan dosen't mean healthy. And by the way, you being vegan is a pain in the ass.
2) Look up courses. Don't care what they are, just do SOMETHING.
3) You can't sleep all day, lazy bitch.
4) Clean the house, your room is a pigsty (which, in reality, pigstys are quite clean...)
5) YOU WILL COMPLETE YOUR HSC, PART TIME TAFE WHATEVER, EVENTUALLY YOU GONNA DO IT
They don't actually talk like that. I just added in some Mr T whoopass for affect
My parents believe in tough love. All of the list was quotes from what they said (more or less). And thankgod they do believe in tough love... i'd be such a slacker if not...like, more so. They are wonderful to me though, comparing to my friends parents, who do things like kick my friends out during their major exams because they are going through a mid-life crisis, smoke so much weed their brains melted or get drunk every night, I'm pretty damn lucky. Plus, I do all the usual teenage rebellion things- dye my hair every colour of the rainbow (except black, thats groddy), have multiple piercings...well thats it. I don't go out everynight, and when I do go out at night, usually to concerts, ma or pa pick me up =)
I'm such a dork. -_-
It's something often joked about among one of my closest friends. When she comes over (which is all the time) we sit around drinking tea, talking about animal rights or the latest theory on whatever, and make beaded bracelets or knit. I usually knit, she usually makes the bracelets.
I have tens of thousands of bracelets. She has that many scarfs and knitted toys.
Today, after getting my hair done (I had to give it a toner, after the bleach blonde-carrot top monstoristy) by my god-sister, and getting the lowdown on all gay gossip of Sydney (erica, you hussy!) I did some random stumbling (I love the stumble button) and discovered...
Lesbian Pulp Fiction.
I don't know why I put that in bold and red, I was just fiddling with the font-bar-thing.
Anyway, Lesbian Pulp Fiction is...well...exactly as the title suggests. Pulp fiction is an old school type of publishing style in the 40s,50s and 60s. It was made out of pulp (kinda a wood chip thing) and put as short stories in magazines or thin books. They have all kinds of genres, but the one that I found was "sordid lesbian romances".
As discribed by the god, wikipedia- Author Joan Nestle called them "survival books" and described purchasing them:
The act of taking one of these books off the drugstore rack and paying for it at the counter was a frightening and difficult move for most women. This was especially true during the atmosphere of the McCarthy trials...Although tame by today's standards...these volumes were so threatening then that women hid them, burnt them, and threw them out
and on the hilarious cover art....
Lesbian pulp novels typically had lurid, titillating cover art. Although many women (lesbian and otherwise) bought and read these novels, book publishers marketed them to men as erotic fantasy. Covers might have a few provocative lines of text meant to draw attention to the sexy and scandalous nature of what was between the covers. Publishers inserted words such as "twilight", "odd", "strange", "shadows" and "queer" in the titles of these books.[9]"Author Ann Bannon has stated that men would read the covers literally, attracted to the art of half-dressed women in a bedroom scene, and women would read the covers iconically: two women looking at each other, or one woman standing, another on a bed, with the trigger words of "strange" or "twilight" meant that the book had lesbian content in it
why I'm interested, again I don't know, I'm currently into 'rockabilly'. Its amusing.
Now I must leave you, I found the coolest thing for joss whendon fans and tea lovers...( I am both of which)
http://www.adagio.com/signature_blend/blend.html?blend=623&scrollTop=2010
Would I be over-analysing the urge to actually begin a blog by saying it would be a secret cry for international-web notarity? Hidden fantasys of billions of fans and dollars?
Yes. Yes I would.
I really need to find a new job. I've been spending far too much time thinking. Thats a bad thing. Usually, when I think, I come up with new reasons not to do certain things, or do certain things, or wonder about certain things, which leads me into trouble, as either i've offended someone by my doing or not doing of certain things, or my brain exploded from the vast amount of infomation i've tried to absorb because a new found (well...new found to me, probably not to others) sudden interest of the topic.
Or I could go back to school. That would kill a few brain cells and a half. I'll be too focused on spouting force-fed bullshit back to my teachers to really learn things.
Yay. School *insert eye roll here*... I shouldn't hate school so much, I mean, I'm lucky because I never got forced to go to a private school (Hypothetical situation- me enter private school. Three days later, me get forced of private school property due to doing basically everything i'm not supposed to, like think.) and Bradfield college was pretty cool... but still, I hate it with a passion. Its good for others, who are good at things, not lazy slacking philosophers like me.
At this point its time to point out i'm an ex-school student who is 17 and should really do something but does not know what to do.
My parents are lovely. Like seriously, they're awesome. They let me change into a hippy-dippy art college, and when I couldn't hack that to complete my HSC, they let me leave...but not without pre-requists, which I believe, are necssary, otherwise i'd be sleeping all day.
1) get off yo' ass and get a job, fatty. And start being healthy. Being vegan dosen't mean healthy. And by the way, you being vegan is a pain in the ass.
2) Look up courses. Don't care what they are, just do SOMETHING.
3) You can't sleep all day, lazy bitch.
4) Clean the house, your room is a pigsty (which, in reality, pigstys are quite clean...)
5) YOU WILL COMPLETE YOUR HSC, PART TIME TAFE WHATEVER, EVENTUALLY YOU GONNA DO IT
They don't actually talk like that. I just added in some Mr T whoopass for affect
My parents believe in tough love. All of the list was quotes from what they said (more or less). And thankgod they do believe in tough love... i'd be such a slacker if not...like, more so. They are wonderful to me though, comparing to my friends parents, who do things like kick my friends out during their major exams because they are going through a mid-life crisis, smoke so much weed their brains melted or get drunk every night, I'm pretty damn lucky. Plus, I do all the usual teenage rebellion things- dye my hair every colour of the rainbow (except black, thats groddy), have multiple piercings...well thats it. I don't go out everynight, and when I do go out at night, usually to concerts, ma or pa pick me up =)
I'm such a dork. -_-
It's something often joked about among one of my closest friends. When she comes over (which is all the time) we sit around drinking tea, talking about animal rights or the latest theory on whatever, and make beaded bracelets or knit. I usually knit, she usually makes the bracelets.
I have tens of thousands of bracelets. She has that many scarfs and knitted toys.
Today, after getting my hair done (I had to give it a toner, after the bleach blonde-carrot top monstoristy) by my god-sister, and getting the lowdown on all gay gossip of Sydney (erica, you hussy!) I did some random stumbling (I love the stumble button) and discovered...
Lesbian Pulp Fiction.
I don't know why I put that in bold and red, I was just fiddling with the font-bar-thing.
Anyway, Lesbian Pulp Fiction is...well...exactly as the title suggests. Pulp fiction is an old school type of publishing style in the 40s,50s and 60s. It was made out of pulp (kinda a wood chip thing) and put as short stories in magazines or thin books. They have all kinds of genres, but the one that I found was "sordid lesbian romances".
As discribed by the god, wikipedia- Author Joan Nestle called them "survival books" and described purchasing them:
The act of taking one of these books off the drugstore rack and paying for it at the counter was a frightening and difficult move for most women. This was especially true during the atmosphere of the McCarthy trials...Although tame by today's standards...these volumes were so threatening then that women hid them, burnt them, and threw them out
and on the hilarious cover art....
Lesbian pulp novels typically had lurid, titillating cover art. Although many women (lesbian and otherwise) bought and read these novels, book publishers marketed them to men as erotic fantasy. Covers might have a few provocative lines of text meant to draw attention to the sexy and scandalous nature of what was between the covers. Publishers inserted words such as "twilight", "odd", "strange", "shadows" and "queer" in the titles of these books.[9]"Author Ann Bannon has stated that men would read the covers literally, attracted to the art of half-dressed women in a bedroom scene, and women would read the covers iconically: two women looking at each other, or one woman standing, another on a bed, with the trigger words of "strange" or "twilight" meant that the book had lesbian content in it
why I'm interested, again I don't know, I'm currently into 'rockabilly'. Its amusing.
Now I must leave you, I found the coolest thing for joss whendon fans and tea lovers...( I am both of which)
http://www.adagio.com/signature_blend/blend.html?blend=623&scrollTop=2010
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