Ponder

I store my charm in my knee caps. I wonder if thats why they retain their bulbous shape?

I am a red red rash. And I'm spreading.

He's baaack!

I put the laughter in man sLAUGHTER.

Doesn't that just make you want to grab an axe and sway back and forth as if you were in a straight jacket

Picture courtesy of Utthara

THROW MY HANDS IN THE EYRE EY-EYRE!

Not exactly as bad-arse as the original, but at least it applies.

I have mixed feelings, as usual... ABOUT WHAT, YOU ASK? hmmm well, perhaps it has something to do with the fact that FINALS ARE COMING AND I AM FLIPPING OUT and I GET TO WRITE FOR THE SCHOOL NEWSPAPER NEXT YEAR!! -- finally, real readers.... just kidding. I have learned to appreciate you... like an ungrateful bratty child (can you sense the bitterness in my tone?)

Also, Jane Eyre. That's all that needs to be said about that.

So guess where I'm writing from? THE TOILET! -- don't worry, just the bathroom vicinity. I do some of my best thinking in this room; some real, quality nogin joggin'.

I must go purge my television of Billy Ray Cyrus. Oh, and lets not forget, READ JANE EYRE. I will give a thoroughly irritated review of this book later, believe me (just as soon as I finish sparknoting-- I mean, READING it).

TA TA FOR NOW

Some might say we're married in the melodies softly soaring through my atmosphere

A list of music I approve of (taken from the "reading" playlist on my iPod created in 9th grade or so, which has not been updated for 2 years)>> SO YOU CAN LISTEN TO GREAT MUSIC WHILE YOU READ MY BLOG! shameless advertising is my specialty. I also perform at weddings and barmitsfas.

FORMAT: song-artist

Hyperballad- Bjork
Hometown Glory- Adele
All I want- Ahn tRIO
the unwinding cable car- Anberlin
never take friendship personal- anberlin
the resistance- anberlin
the resistance- muse
glass to the arson- anberlin
lonely people- augustana
boston-""
hey now - ""
Hey jude- beatles
across the universe-""
sundress- ben kweller
you'll find a way- santogold
black and gold- sam sparro
eyes on fire- blue foundation
hurt- christina aguilera
one day robots will cry- cobra starship
choux pastry heart- corrine bailey rae
i will possess your heart- DCFC
Cath- DCFCtalking bird-dcfc
the ice is getting thinner-dcfc
we laugh indoors -dcfc
i was a kaleidoscope - dcfc
styrofoam plates-dcfc
all is full of love-dcfc
your heart is an empty room-dcfc
marching bands of manhattan-dcfc
crooked teeth-dcfc
soul meets body-dcfc
i will follow you into the dark-dcfc
what sarah said-dcfc
the face that launched a 1000 shits-dcfc
death of an interior decorator- dcfc
title and registration - dcfc
sweet dreams- eurythmics
my moon my man- feist
the water- feistshh- frou frou
let go- frou frou
must be dreaming- frou frou
psychobabble- frou frou
Androgyny- garbage
Cherry lips- garbage
first train home- imogen
wait it out- imogen heap
earth - imogen heap
little bird- imogen heap
swoon- imogentidal- imogen
between sheets- imogen
canvas- imogen
half life- imogen
loose ends- imogen
speeding cars- imogen
the walk - imogen
closing in- imogen
headlock- imogen
hide and seek- imogen
good people -jack johnson
the remedy- Jason mraz
I'm your's- jason mraz
they- jem
the chairman's waltz- john williams (soundtrack of memoir of a geisha)
send in the slowns judy collins
roses- kanye west
you again- kate havnevik
Mr. brightside- the killers
URA fever- the kills
what new york used to be- the kills
she moves in her own way - the kooks
there she goes- the La's
last train- lostprophets
sunshowers- MIA
Wraith pinned to the mist and other games- Of montreal
prodigal- one republic
come home- one republicall
fall down- one republic
goodbye apathy- one republic
mercy- one republic
its my life- paul anka
suddenly everything has changed- postal service
clark gable- postal service
such great heights- postal service
this place is a prison- ""
We will become silhouettes-""
nothing better-""
brand new colony-""
take a look at me now-""
be still my heart-""
Hi- PSAPP
light my candle- rent
Frug- rilo kiley
portions for foxes - rilo kiley
prayer of the refugee- rise against
lonely no more- rob thomas
ramalama bang bang- roisin murphy
creator- santogoldi was married- tegan and sara
are you ten years ago-""
Back in your head- ""
hop a plane-""
happy together- the turtles
Wicked little girls- esthero

I neglected you like I neglected my egg baby

Alright, I didn't leave you in the fridge for a week, but nevertheless I apologize for my long absense. School is over in another 16 days or so and then SUMMERSCHOOL starts! But until then I may not be able to write much, so, as filler blogs, I'll periodically post pics of my trips to france. ENJOY! (I am on a comma high)

Garb(age). Say it french.

Welcome to the first installment of "Green Monsta Say". These are the repressed thoughts I can't blurt out during the day that reside in a sad little corner of my mind that only gets used when I'm zoning out, asleep, or in the bathroom.

GREEN MONSTA SAY :

picture courtesy of Utthara

I hate that when you type parentheses, they are just a little bit rounder than when I type them.

Text Can Be Pretty

"A range of gaunt thorns, all stretching their limbs one way, as if craving alms of the sun."

-Wuthering Heights (EMILY Bronte, 2)

photo courtesy of Utthara

I sometimes wonder what it would be like to lay in a pile of an old englishman's hair.

I imagine it would feel like this.

A Dilemna

I have a theory that I have proposed to several of my friends, which I will proceed to thrust upon you.

There are two fundamental wrongs with our society's collective unconscious: 1) sadness is bad and 2) death is somehow unnatural. (NOTE: I am not excluding myself from the coming accusations)

The people who inhabit this world, for one reason or another, seem to be under the impression that the minute a person ceases to grin painfully, something devastating has happened. Sadness and mourning are emotions too, and they CAN and WILL be felt if a person is truly emotionally stable.

On the second point, SHIT HAPPENS THEN YOU DIE. That's all I really have to say about that, but for the sake of compensation, I will go on. The fear of aging, save death, that has infested our society is just worrisome. We will die, and when Miley and Joe and Palin and Clinton and you and I die, people will replace us; and they will lead similarly mundane lives as they smugly think to themselves "Man, no one has ever been or will ever be like me". We can't deny we've thought (or have very deliberately and childishly prayed for) the same thing to ourselves, but deep down, we know that's not the case, but I guess I'd rather live in blissful denial than accept the despondent truth... This all brings me to my dilemna:

I passionately want to take AP Psychology in my senior year of high school, but I don't know if I'm ready to come to terms with what the curriculum has to say. Namely, I don't want to learn that my entire persona, the unique-ness of which I have cultivated and taken major pride in, is text book.-- I mean to say, I don't want to find out that human thought (the eighth wonder of the world) is just a series of trends, and that I think and act and am motivated by the same thing as EVERYONE ELSE IN THIS WORLD. I don't want to learn that I can be easily diagnosed and analyzed, like some sort of Holden Caulfield off paper, because I have faith in that humans are more complex than that... but there is always that black abyss-- what if we really aren't? ALL IN ALL, I don't want to spend a year trying to figure out my thoughts, and, in the process, lose any character and perspective I once had.

I really don't mean to come off as a pseudo-indie, attention-seeking, pre-mature-whackjob-philosopher (I love hyphens) or anything, but I've been thinking about this for a while..

Sleep tight ya' morons!

And How Does That Make You Feel?

Why don't you tell me, Hallmark?

As of the moment, I feel like a poorly mixed smoothie... very heterogeneous...

Today, my friends, I sighed. I sighed a sigh of relief, because, as of today, my friends, AP TESTS ARE BEHIND ME! -- ahem, us. But nevertheless, I had to return to school for the last two classes of the day. So, at the end of the day, I proceeded to waste two and a half hours at the local boba shop * go figure * and then decided I should go home. Now, as I approached my door house, I felt somehow strange, like something was happening on the other side... something... curious.

Remember when schools bothered to teach you fire safety?-- before they decided "Ahh, screw it. If there really is a fire, no one is going to remember to feel a door before they open it, or crawl instead of walk... They're just going to bang the damn thing down, scream for their mothers and run like someone is chasing them with a Barrons SAT book." Well, I had not forgotten the teachings of the-equivalent-of-Smokey-the-Bear-for-household-fires, and so I felt the door before i entered.

LO AND BEHOLD! A warm door! Now, this is the part where I tell you my house was on fire. Use your common sense before you leap out of your chair, people. It wasn't.

It was a strange sort of warmth, not one of a fire, but one of pretentious, artsy, fishnet-y glitter explosions. So I apprehensively opened the door to find that LADY GAGA HAD INFILTRATED MY HOUSE. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. I REPEAT. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. DO NOT STAY CALM. IN FACT, SCREAM A LITTLE- I know you want to.

Now, I don't mean to say that there she was: climbing my lit fireplace in only fishnets and caution tape and making strange noises that could very well be satanic versus backwards. No, it's worse. My mother. My own mother was in the kitchen, making yakisoba, humming "Don't call my name Alejandro! I'm not a *sound to replace unknown lyric*, Fernando!". I very well could have collapsed, but this was no time for such drama, there were more urgent things at hand: such as, saving my mother from the cultural and artistic suicide that is Lady Gaga's music... sounds.

I sat her down and did some damage control,during which, we found the source of the virus: American Idol. So yes, this whole blog was just a plot against American Idol, using a clever analogy to fire, describing the irrevocable damage it does to teenage minds and the constant circle of destruction and creation that is the basis of Hinduism. No. I'm not that clever, and honestly, I just don't have THAT much purpose in writing. Sorry, Marion Zimmer Bradley.

The ionization energy that is my dinner is now pulling me away from you. We were once at noble gas configuration, and it took much activation energy, but the hunger is just too much to bear. So, I leave you paramagnetic, and unstable, hopefully we will bond again in the near future, as you have much electron affinity!

Your proton electron ratio is large. It blows my mind how small you've become.

SAYO- BAIBAI.

Sooth Your Soul With These

Haikus from my glory days I thought I would share with y'all

AN AFTERNOON SNACK

Do we have Jelly?

What about peanut butter?

I think I'll have juice

WALLPAPER

Wallpaper is nice

But it is hard to put up

And hard to take down.

So let that marinate.

I have to go study for AP tests now. Aren't you proud, Budiana?