Saturday, February 20, 2010

come on and get your overdose

i was a freewheelin' Miss P with the optimism of Oscar, leaving responsibility to live a little. We, dressed in our modern day lace and crochet filled to the brim with the finest karma traveled down to my whiskey a go-go to sweet talk the Henry-est of Chinaskis.

Armed with gifts of marlboro reds and personalized mints he accepted andthanked us as if we had handed him a hundred dollar bill and a bag of diamonds. "These were expensive", he said as he bashfully slicked back his already greased mop. He had a kind toughness to him, he would have looked like elvis when he was younger and would always pull a lady's chair out. It began to rain but instead of feeling phony I felt inspired like it was really about to happen.

You can tell a true gentleman by how he holds an umbrella, and that Holden on the curb surely was not one. As we hid beneath a loosely knit awning of our own creation the rain poured over us washing off the cynicism and egos leaving only the great elan of a child. our good deeds rewarded us and poof we were in.

after decades of waiting and reapplying lipstick and margot-like stares, they took the stage, and I was captured in the visuals of geometric molecules and particles zapping across the faces of the fine musicians i was lucky enough to be in the presence of. An hour reduced down to a thick rue of sensory satisfaction, he spoke right to me, and i understood him for just a moment. i left with a body high and the optimism of Charlie in the haze of a stoner.

Its nice to know that some chains of events feel truly fated. Maybe it's that we can control our destiny with a little effort.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Monday, February 15, 2010

disappear here

i hear people two floors below singing happy birthday, just as we did two nights ago, and I wonder why i only leave the one window open that i do. why not open another, to smoke, to write.

im thinking about LA, and reading less than zero, set in LA, thinking about how much it resembles my current life. i have begun to feel restless again, hating my job and thinking of what would make my life better. the wine and the smokes and the coke feels good, but it never seems to fulfill and i can't help but feel that my life has become one giant cliche. a cliche filled with amazing dinner parties and bumps of coke in various bathrooms and hazy loft parties with more lines and models trying to be stand up comedians and random conversation with said models talking about what an asshole he is then and now, while snot runs down his face.

i want it all to change, but i will never be the girl who goes to sleep at 11pm only to wake up to work out or go to work, feeling content about it all. but i do feel content in the simplest form of the word. i enjoy my friends, i'm okay with working, and "life goes on" as the beatles currently tell me. but i want more, and will try not to disappear.

Friday, February 12, 2010

bochic ring

Thursday, February 11, 2010

rip alexander mcqueen

the shipwreck dress. an all-time favorite.

Alexander McQueen - Plato's Atlantis from SHOWstudio on Vimeo.

Saturday, February 6, 2010

is it better to be raised in normalcy or in a wacked out environment hoping for normalcy. which allows you to escape sooner?

Thursday, February 4, 2010

bad romance

having bleached hair is like having a boyfriend that punches you in the face every two weeks

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

why are we all chasing the aloof, the off limits and the mysterious? when faced with the option of affection and the ability for human connection, we reject it. why does it feel so much better when we know it wont work out? when we know its not real and its not right?

why can't we keep the ones we know love us, without being consumed by the unknown?

my new (probably) underage crush

and an older one.

since i spent the time to compose this

marilyn manson spends a whole book describing his offbeat lifestyle, his journey from awkward child to pseudo rockstar complete with drug binges, strange sexual acts and a dwindling sense of morality. but rather than being a self indulgent tale, it really fucking hits home with me. i left you a message detailing this, but want to send you some quotes.

in a strange way i identify with him, coming from a home where weird is not always good, escaping to a new place that allows the weirdness to shine, and then grappling with it all trying to define yourself. though he was already highly defined in his own mind. he examined himself and the world and needed to talk about it just like i constantly need to talk about things to validate my ideas. and he straight up said that at one point " i woke up at seven o clock this morning and i was trying to find someone to express my ideas to but i couldnt. i was walking around like a fucking madman"

he also talks about satanism, a concept that sounds frightening to me, but he writes "what nearly everyone in my life had misunderstood about satanism is that it is not about ritual sacrifices, digging up graves and worshipping the devil. the devil doesnt exist. satanism is about worshipping yourself, because you are responsible for your own good and evil. christianity's war against the devil has always been a fight against man's most natural instincts - for sex, for violence, for self gratification - and a denial of man's membership in the animal kingdom. the idea of heaven is just christianity's way of creating a hell on earth."

not that im going to start believing in satanism, but that put it so simply. its not a crime to indulge our own animal instincts, and shouldn't feel bad about doing what we need to do to feel happy.

he finishes the book with a parallel between his personal struggle to finish an album that just wasn't getting done, due to fucked up relationships with his band mates, drugs, and misunderstandings among the sea of self destruction. he says "when i first conceived of Antichrist Superstar (his album) I set out to create an apocalypse. But I didnt realize it was going to be a personal one. as a child I had been a weakling, a worm, a follower, a small shadow trying to find a place in an infinite world of light. in the end, in order to find that place, I had to sacrifice my humanity - if you could even call such an insecure, guilt-ridden existence humanity. i had to shed my skin, purge my emotions and experience every extreme: i had to keep throwing myself onto the swords until I didnt feel a thing."

and a final quote. in the vein of one controlling his own destiny he wrote " i believe in dreams, i believe that every night on the planet everything that is, was and can be is dreamt. i believe that what happens in dreams is no different and no less important than what happens int he waking world. i believe that dreams are the closest equivalent presentday mankind has to time travel. i believe you can visit your past, present and future in dreams. i believe i've dreamt half of my life that hasn't happened yet. i dont believe in chance, accidents, or coincidences. i believe in the Delusional Self, which is to say that I believe tha thte things I talk and think about change the world around me and result in events that appear to be coincidental. "

i dont know. this book has debilitated me.