safe from harm, tonight

It's Christmas day, and so far it's been eventful. I fell asleep at 4 in the morning, which isn't an unusual circumstance; I usually begin to thrive at 12 am. I painted my mom a present [which I'll post up], I made my brother a CD, I re-read my old diaries, finished another Augusten Burroughs novel [sellevision]. My little brother slept under the tree because this year he was extremely determined to catch a glimpse of Santa, and I think it's ridiculous that my parents are still trying to convince him that Santa is real. It's heartbreaking! This morning I asked him if he in fact did see Santa, and he said no, but he did hear someone walking on the roof and in the chimney. Hmmm...
My mom gave me a meditation bowl and a Rumi calendar, as well as two tree ornaments, an owl and a horse. I was born in the year of the horse, and an owl because I'm basically nocturnal.
I think at night I get the most excited about creativity, because I'm alone, it becomes such a secretive and isolated process. I listen to oodles of trip hop and obscure art videos.

My mom suggested the other day that I move to St. Petersburg next year and study in Russia for a year. St. Petersburg is an amazing city, every street is full of it's own history. More important than all of the historic events that occurred there, it is a place that is FULL of art. Pushkin the poet was killed there in a duel; there are so many galleries, people with imagination...music with imagination....
I think it would be interesting to spend my first year of adulthood in another country.
But god I'm such a coward. And that fact prevents me from dreaming my dreams in other places other than America.
But I am sure that I don't want to live in this country for another decade, or raise my children here. Growing up in a household full of a different culture, in a country that lacks this factor, has made me crave Europe. Even Canada would do!

But before all of that happens, I have to graduate first. Possibly get a job. I'm getting overwhelmed thinking about all of the things that I need to do, applications to fill out, and scholarships to win. AH! But today is a holiday, so my procrastination is healthy at this point.

In a Karma Coma

May I have a word about honesty?
May I please touch apon the fragility of human relations, and how easily they get demolished with a single lick of dishonesty?
I feel as if this topic is going to be an obsession of mine for as long as I live, but I know that I will always stand behind being open with one another.
Love is simply this; being pure and connected. Any kind of relationship deserves a clean consciousness, or else it is one that is filled with dirty dirty lies, is it not?

As we move on, our hearts seem to get colder, more still, more lonely. What else is there to do when dark secrets are a reality of every human being? I want to be able to feel as if I some how will be able to trust everybody I will ever get close with, but I know this will never be true. And that reality is sad, it is sad that we have created this reality.

We lie to our children, our friends, our lovers, our teachers, our parents, our neighbors. That means that human connections have been made so incredibly primitive, and dishonesty has been desensitized.

SIN SIN SIN! The world is full of sin.

flew into my cuckoo nest

Beauty to me is an exotic surrealistic sight/feeling. It is so many things that you really cannot call it a noun, an adjective, or a simple emotion. In fact for me, beauty is a detail of many emotions, nouns and adjectives, and that’s why it’s the sweetest touch on so many wonders in the world.A complex visual description seeping out of so many people’s lips, their description of what is beautiful might differ from mine. But doesn’t that make the world that much sweeter?
My obsession with anything beautiful leads into my excitement with the awkward and twisted. I don't think I have ever stopped morphing my likes and dislikes, but now that I look back on my stages throughout teenage hood, I realize I have collected albums of passions in my mind. There is still no way I could answer a question about my preferences in music quickly. Or the kind of tattoos I have dreamed to be traced along my body. Currently I am obsessed with graphic artist, particularly in the mid 20th century. It began with Milton Glaser, to Aubrey Beardsley. It led to me setting up that art studio downstairs, which is now transitioning into sewing old clothes together to create new things. I think that is how many passionate people of my kind think, and get inspired by random objects and art that come into our life by chance. I am inspired by performance art, by blunts and beats, by incredible art that stops my breath for just a second, and many times by conversations. I think I am more excited about going to college for that reason, to meet a slew of people that are just as vivid and insane as I am, people that go through as many creative transitions as I do. It may not be healthy to jump from one activity to the next, but I get bored with anything that is constant. I wish there was a profession that would require going out into the world on the search for the new, for the old, for the beautiful. So far I have picked to major in journalism next year, with a minor in design. This will be a perfect marriage of written and visual beauty in my life, mixed in with publication.
And
dats
all I gotta say about that.

It's a Damn Shame

YOU! With that whiskey coating the inside of your neck, it is pouring inside your veins, swimming like the lovebirds twisting in the sky. You prowl the night with glazed over eyes, letting the world play in front of you like an old filmstrip. You cannot feel this film that is turning for your pleasure, you reach out to touch it, but it turns away. You’re a shameful beast who prays on hard liquor and scandalous dreams, surreal ness in the night, hold my hand I’ll guide you there.