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Fuck you, brain.

I want to blog but I have nothing to blog about. Like...I reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeally want to blog.

I have blogging thoughts all throughout the day, but when it comes to putting the fingers to the keyboard...my brain poops.

Dissapointment

"Those labels are a necessary evil, honestly. As soon as journalists start to write about us, I feel like their first job is to find a label for the music. And if there isn't a name for it, they make one up. On the other hand, a lot of ink has been spent on us that says, "I don't really know how to classify this." That's fine with me-I actually find that rather flattering. If it's easy to explain, then it's easily disposable. But it's also been hard for this band because we had no set niche-we had no set audience or demographic who would obviously be into this band. We literally had to win people over one by one. "


:-(

On behalf of people, Sorry for fucking you over. That sucks a bit. A lot a bit.

I told hope i was going to bed

i lied.

i did stream of conciousness on pictochat today. it was ineffective. everyone within 100 feet of me is too poor to have a ds, i guess.

Doing these all summer sounds really exciting, even though I have nothing to write about, except complaints. And revelations.

It'll come by tomorrow. Hopefully, I'll do it.

i can't wait to put my thoughts on here. it just needs to come at the right time.



I'm wondering what it's like to watch fat, awkward people dance. It really must be funny. And not like joke around dance....but like, legitimately dance. that really sucks for fat awkward people. I wonder if anyone cares to read this anymore.

I feel like I'm losing touch with everyone. I feel like I need to be around people...just not the people I'm usually around.

I wanna be a fly on a wall in some fucking place where art and people and good collide. it would be fucking heaven.

Just...ugh. I want it so badly. I feel really otu of place sometimes, and still like the freshman that no one thought had any potential. Just one of the Kristines, one of the ones they shove ner the rug when you have to promote something.
Someone who tags along with the successful classmates in order to be recognized, only to realize that you're just a parasitic insect grabbing on to what they have acheived for more respect from fellow classmates to make up for the fact that you aren't an artist.

I ALWAYS say the wrong thing at the wrong time. How will I get my fucking idol to the fucking school and not make a fool of myself, when I spent aout three minutes with her and could not have felt more like a fool the next day once I thought it over?

I want to sratch past the surface.


i want i want i want. jesus fucking christmas, chelsea-rose

-ss=a=0s=

iiiiii. memememememe.


fuck that shit. i'll fucking do it. I jsut need to specify what I want her to do, or jsut give her options and let her pick.


it would fucking suck if she didnt read it after all the work ill put into this.



SHUT UP ABOUT BELLYFAT ANOREXIC SLUT ON THE ELEVEN OCLOCK NEWS

You'll just throw it all up, that's why you have no fucking belly.





i am a complainy little bitch.

i was trying to excercise my brain to have more of those profoundy thoughts come back, but this house and my mood is a fucking creative buzzkill.


night

Goodbye School. Good fucking riddance

Summer Goals:

-Read books until I'm shitting Shakespeare
-Watch GOOD movies (hard)
-Study for SATs
-Improve work ethic
-Get rid of awkwardness, therefore elevating people skills
-Get Amanda Palmer to do a workshop at SPA. How much money would that cost btw? If you want to give her money?


Anyway. I don't think I'm gonna let myself see myself.

That's really fucking bad.

Like, I almost cried when I saw those videos. I honestly don't know what I look like or act like.

I'm as tense and awkward as Kristine. Who knew? I didn't know I slumped that much, or stopped mid-movement when something exciting happened.

My fake voice does not match my body.

I was always one of those people who thought fat people or weird-looking people weren't really competent. Like, do you know what I mean?

That they couldn't really feel. Or think intelligent thoughts. I know it's weird, but someone else has to think that way beside me.

And then I look at the fucking screen, and I see me as those kind of people. It scared the shit out of me. Really badly. Like, incredibly badly. It was a really unsettling feeling when you didn't know what you were like, and were surprised in the horrible kind of way.

I don't feel like a real person. That's not good.


Plus, I left my DS at school. Whoopdeedee.


Here's to not gaining ten more pounds and switching out food for books, movies, or a bike ride.


Happy Summer.

I'm never having children. ever

Because I know I'll end up old and bitter, and would never want to take that out on a child.


The band is so good. I'm really proud of all of them.

I just don't want to know how a brain can wrap around the idea of taking your anger out on someone else, let alone your own child.

You know what? YOU chose to change diapers for a living. No one forced you get a degree in one of the most stressful, lowest-paying jobs around. Don't take your frustration out on me, and don't make reasons to get mad at ME, you fucking cunt.

I'm all about myself? No. I'm about everyone else but you.


But I think the band will be superduper if we really play our cards right. A lot of talent=yayx10093.

Radiolab is cool. It's put together pieces of things I've been trying to figure out for years.


So I sent the things since I got my extension, and was even late for that.

el';;;;;;;;;;;rkewojf;fods;fklel;rjsfkdljsfdslkfjs;jfa;

I feel kind of really alone right now

head fucking desk

Alrighty then

I officially can't wait for next year. it's gonna be kick ass and i'm gonna cry three times as much as i did this year. It'll be kew.

Meepmeepmeep

Shveeeeeeeeeeeeep. I felt really awkward. I hate mingling.


brecht=big win

kielbasa+sauerkraut=bigger win

GO

We don't even have to blog or give ourselves grades anymore, do we? I'm gonna try and do this over the summer. It's a great release.-

My computer's sound is coming back tomorrow, so I can watch Raging Bull on youtube then.

I want to be a grownup already. I mean, honestly? I'm not gonna be saying the same thing in 30 years, but I'm sooooooooo sick of this fucking school. I really am.

I want to be educated, not look like an asshole every time I speak, and be proud of what I do and what I stand for.

I wanna start doing yoga. I wanna read. I wanna make sure I don't get a hump when I'm 40. I wanna watch movies. I wanna REALLY understand things; not just put pretty words together to make it seem like I'm an intellectual of some sort. I want the awkward period to cease to exist.


Creation and art and beautiful and flowers and movement and loooooooooooove. And old cities. I wanna be apart of it SO fucking badly.


I don't want to be a bitchy person anymore; I'm slowly starting to see how it turns people away after a while. I've never been taught to be open. I've been taught to stay away from the 'weird' people...the 'bad' people. The different ones. Why would you want to be different? To look like a freak? To be an attention whore?

NO. So I don't end up a poor, unhappy fuckup like you.


My parents never even said anything remotely like that to me ever. Why would I say something so bad? I need to stop exaggerating.


About 90% of the people I know do it too...but it still doesn't make it right. I want to be old and wise and cool. To not have a care in the world...to be a sponge and soak up all I can.


To get rid of this one-track mind. This simpleton-y way of thinking. I need to be peaceful-er. Wait, what? I'm not peaceful at all. I'm one of the tense-est people I know.

Let's see how much of this gets done by next year.

Having the balls to create and perform is the greatest gift in the world. The vulnerability and power. It's incredible.







Overkill? Emily-y? I hope not. I want an orange. And to go to Boston.