degaussing

la la la life crisis, part who knows:

1. should i suck it up and accept all my school's weaknesses and keep trucking along to finish next year?

2. should i look into running away and hoping that it was my school's fault/the city's fault that my college dreams didn't work out?

i mean, the rational thing is to do 1. but can i deal w/ another year of misery/boredom/blahness? and more so -- after that year, what exactly am i going to do w/ my life? let's not kid ourselves, other than doing well academically, i haven't really done shit. i take partial responsibility for that, but also b/c everything uni offered was just some kind of weird extension of high school. i didn't go to college to do hs again!!! i didn't/don't want to join stupid clubs that i don't care about just so i can feel like i'm doing something w/ my life/have other people think i'm doing something w/ my life. and the people running the things that i was trying to pursue apparently don't believe in email/replying to email. idk. for a big city, mtl is strangely small and alienating. i have yet to go more than a month w/o hitting some pothole of depression lolol. but back to the point, so what, i'm going to apply to grad school after this? ...and then get rejected ...again. oh my god, my little heart can't deal with that much failure ok? which is also not fair b/c i'm good at what i do! i really am! why won't people realize this or why don't i have a weird, freaky talent like idk playing a musical instrument w/ my third arm. i don't know if i could handle the application process just to be told i'm not good enough again. i know, everybody tells you not to take it personally, but my life at this point is only about academics, so yes! they will be turning down my whole life! (...ah, maybe this is the problem...).

but is it normal to feel that you've made the wrong choice/are almost always completely uncomfortable 24/7 for the second year in a row?

OR MAYBE IT'S JUST THAT I'M TURDY AND CANNOT MAN UP TO SAVE MY LIFE.

q that i ask myself on a daily basis: what is WRONG w/ you? why are you so retarded and can you take lessons to solve this? why are you unhappy AGAIN? where are you going in life/are you going anywhere in life? lj, just euthanize me, all of my angst is so stupid and i'm so sick of dealing w/ it too. i just wanna punch it in the face and be done w/ it. i think that the final conclusion is that i need to get over my own insecurity. i'm a+ at repressing, but if i'm going to get all my dreams and hopes~*~*~, that ain't gonna do the trick. but are there classes for this?

DEAR SELF: BE A STRONG BLACK WOMAN AND MAN THE F UP.

anyway, sorry for the tl;dr but here's a picture of an asian model in balenciaga sheep wool:

ok final note: i just wanted to move to college and become a better person. or not "better" but just to finally grow as a person. i don't know why that isn't happening and i don't know why i am stagnating or whatever, but montreal/mcgill has done nothing for me in that department. it's embarrassing. i never want to see old friends/whatever b/c i know that i'm still the same person at the same place that i have been for the past five years. i hate it and i don't want it for myself. if anything, i've been regressing. i'm trying to find the part of me that still thinks that big things can happen/i can make big things happen. but i really, really can't fix it here b/c sadly, mtl/mcgill was never even my clean slate to begin with.

TV SHOWS W/ JJ ABRAMS ARE LIKE FANTASY BOOKS: EVERYBODY KEEPS ON DYING!!!

last exam tuesday. home after. i feel weird about everything, but i'm taking lessons w/ glee, namely, SMILE AND THE WORLD WILL SMILE BACK AT YOU! :D ...honestly, it sounds a lot like denial & repression~*~*~ but i will try my best to take this positivity thing on a spin.

after tues i'm going to go od properly on fringe. can't wait. lalala

awww guys, I just wanna grow as a person~*~* why innit this happening and why am I always in a life funk??

life why you gotta be like that (why you gotta talk to meeee? said lucas the homo gay pornstar)

omg i'm the biggest freak in the world, but how cute is tom and jon tweeting to each other??? so cute is the answer omg.

shut up, it's finals week.

awww my first model love. he's so old now! i vunder vhat he is doing now that he is getting too old for the model world. loooove!

r.i.p, daul kim.hope it is better now, baby. <3

idk, i was typing up things from the summer & realizing that i wish i had the endurance/will/talent to write a cohesive novel, & a little annoyed/sad that i will probably give up and take the lsats instead. anywhoooo, this is part of the novel that i wish i could man up & write:

( defyiiiing gravityyyy lalala you are not alone )

i love glee. glee is cute and fuzzy and i want to cuddle w/ it. i'm sleepy goood nighttttt darling internetttttt.

more wah wah wemo. actually not really, b/c i've watched 1/2 of amelie and made cinnamon muffins and realized that i end two days earlier than i thought i did! lucky meeee. everybody appreciate my new tag. i think it's hilarious. as uszh.

cleaning the house, forgetting spaces:

yesterday i spent too long in a supermarket
looking at the backs of cereal boxes
too much time
comparing fiber content, thinking about
students sitting in a square, declaring
war on the eastern fronts of their bodies,
did they get their peaceful souls? did Mao
wake up for ten minutes, annoyed and fatherly,
just to shake his head at them, hold their hands
a little too tightly, so
what was the scorched earth policy then, if not
an exercise to cut your nose off, spite
your face, and one of the tiny student leaders,
pushed back her hair and said, oh, but we are
expecting, we are hoping for blood, we are
waiting and look at how
we are wolves now, wolves in small pens, we
are hungry now, and how hungry
you were, stirring pasta in the morning,
before you left

so i went home and i
scrubbed the kitchen counter for
you, i learned fourteen new recipes, i
made the acquaintance of jack daniels in the
afternoon and by evening, we were old childhood
sweethearts, he told me to
sit in the bathroom all night, just
so i could wipe the walls clean, and i
said your name for you, because
you weren't there to say mine, so
i washed the dishes until my hands
were numb, and i thought about how
you didn't like movies about small
animals or the end of the world, how
you spent a week once in zambia
carrying a sick sheep across the bridge
of your shoulders, because you were too
sad to let it die alone

take some time to think
about numbers, what are dates
but soft, delicious -- isn't it nice
how they are so small and round, so
easy to digest, and
my childhood was not like that, it was
a field, an ocean, a great long stretch
that i could run across and swim through, scab my knees open,
i was on my knees in the bathroom, not
for you, but because i wanted
clean floors to walk on, and i was waiting for
you to come home again, to brush your
teeth, and i remember your body
like a house i had once checked into,
the doors of your mouth as you remembered
mine, and i want to think about how a room can be used in
so many ways: to hold your books, to make
your bed, to open the curtains in the summer, close
the windows in the winter, how it is
possible to enter & then, to leave

let's count all the dumb shit i've been sad over or cried to in the past few days:
- so you think you can dance episode
- rogers being a huge dickhole to me over the phone times ten million times
- all my readings
- some hp story haha
- mcgill being a huge dickhole to me. won't let me have extra credits b/c i'm "taking space they need" and won't let me do my other minor b/c it's not like it's "relevant to my future anyway." yeah fuck you too.


yeah. so that's happening. f this, haven't cried like a bitch or felt so retarded sad in a while. i don't know what to do but continue to feel like this. ooooook, now that that's done w/...

the state of the world/my life/how i feel about everything in general is this: i want to vom over everything. ev-ery-th-ing. not impressed by life in general.

................yep.

SOOOO CUTE. ugh. #2 fave. watch adam shankman in this -- such a little wemo darlingcakes. ohhh i've watched this so many times. this season's going to be so freaking good. which. good. b/c last season SUCKED. yeah i went there.

anyway, i really want to be perfect, omg, oh my god, it's true. brb watching it again. so good!

AWWWWWW preemptive fave in the sytycd horse race. AWWWWWWWWW. (:

f, my fear of failure is once again the forerunner in my life. fff!

Carden took a puff of his cigarette and then crossed his arms over his chest. "You won't believe me," he said, "but I came back because – I heard he was in trouble, I heard he was – I thought, I thought I could do something to help. I thought – I should have known better. I only ever knew how to make him worse."

from never be done by jae_w

WAHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Never had a song sounded like this song. Never had a path led into the distance like this one. The head knew nothing more of the legs. There was no burden. The eye was everything. Everything was image. The march was sound, a noise, a joyous stream.
--Karl Aloys Schenzinger

in other news: i really hate everything. i'm trying not to, but it's proving difficile. trying to switch majors and failing miserably. want to cry a lot and then cry some more. or i could just hurry up and get the fuck out. i don't know. basically: want to die. want to die want to dieeeee.

sooo basically i am in book coma after buying like, a million of them. retail therapy: it works.

not less angry, but less homicidal, by which i mean, it is v. hard for me to want to hurt other people. anyway, i've moved onto apathy, which is the healthier choice I GUESS. words that my family use to describe me: soft, complacent, submissive. TY GUYS.

yayayayay bb bold really soon yayayayayay. it is hard to be mad when there are nice things like bbs in the world. and then you get to keep them! so basically, i'm a terrible person and it's totally cool.

but why do i keep on adding lj comms when i hate them clogging up my f-page? :( but i love fashin fags. why so many posts?

so, i really hate my father. i really hate my father and i want him to die. i stopped feeling bad about it. he's basically a monster. and i'm angry at my mother for waiting for so long, for never leaving, for letting him turn her into somebody else. i'm just angry. i've never wanted to hurt somebody so much in my life, and i will. i will. i will be vicious and cruel and fucking mean about it, b/c it's what i want & i can't wait. it's basically been 18 years of weird forms of abuse and terror, not physical, to me, at least, and like, that's fine, i'm my best when i'm doing things out of hate. i'm at my best when i'm doing things out of spite.

and you know what, i've been hiding these things for a long time & i'm not sure why. here it is: my family is broken and it has nothing to do w/ me. i don't give a shit anymore. it has nothing to do with me.

UMMMM i just vommed in my mouth four times out of LOVE. ohhhh, g-dragon is so cute! yep, looking into the bleach blonde look. bad, bad, bad... but ... soo goood? so good. oh look at him! love.

in other news: :( paint fumes. brain cells. not friends.

travis wall's debut choreography for the shooooow. ohh, i love him.

awwww. yeah, whatever, i totally have a soft spot for burie still (probs foreeeever). look at his little face! anyway, in reaction to the panic split: ...i cared for a little bit but now i don't b/c ???? i only ever cared about brendon anyway so it's perfff fine. also, ryan has always annoyed me, SO REALLY, no big thing.



soo nat poly is basically flawless & she can do no wrong & i basically turned gay. COOL.

HI INTERNET, I MISSED YOU LOTS.

:) :) :) i have a lot of word vomit from my travels, but most of it is still stupid gangster shit, which i am trying extremely hard not to turn into big gay love story. ...it's proving difficult. whatever! anyway, i still don't know what this is/when it is/anything, but i can't stop thinking about it. ohh boy. this stuff is total homo:

Here are the moments that Sam could not stop reliving, history repeating itself, one failed war, the final frontier drawn over and over again:

(1) So Sam was a dying animal then, his face thin and long like a butter knife turned downward to sink into that warm evening, and his fingers were seeking the piano keys of Callum's spine, trying to make their bodies move in perfect 4:4 time. Sam was sliding through the minutes, sweaty and anxious like he was going to throw up, but Callum was a metronome then, his mouth counting notes into Sam's, and his arms were strong and insisting as they pulled him down...

(2) Then, Sam was standing by the windows in the still white morning, his fingers perched on the pane so that his shoulders were a steady charcoal sketch against the foreground of the room. He faced that open window, letting his gaze meander down the road beneath him while the doors were shuttering closed on the rooms in his chest. Looking into the first room, there was Asher sitting on the floor, cleaning his guns with gentle, tender strokes of his arm, and his fish eyes, pink and wet, were staring peacefully into the space ahead. In the next, his mother was crying in the kitchen after disposing of the bodies of two baby mice, and she was still hearing their voices, so thin and wounded as they called out for hours into the evening, dying slowly, one after the other in the trap she had set up. The third one was empty still, just an empty room with nice high walls -- oh, that blue, blue sea... Sam was breathing in that warm white morning, not wanting to remember anything --  but his body was not interested in this business of forgetting, instead it had dismantled those moments, pulled them apart and compartmentalized them into boxes, storing them in his stomach, his chest, the broad breadbasket plain of his back -- so he turned around to sink into that technicolour present where Callum was kneeling on the bed, his long, lean body curled forward to meet a basin of water. So, Callum was the entwined complicated head of a cello, and Sam's fingers itched with the need to dissect something, anything. Callum's body was a beautifully crafted violin, Sam wanted to learn how to play him, to place his fingers in the right, secret spots while Callum sat there, bare-chested and pale, scrubbing blood from the sleeves of a white Oxford threaded shirt.

---

Sam in a nutshell: On his better days, Sam was a thief and a liar; on his worse, he still believed in virtue, his eyes searching the horizon for the bigger picture, for that single piece of pure blue sky.

i'm making a playlist entitled: playlist for gangsters who desire peaceful souls. just imagine a lot of the weakerthans and neutral milk hotel.

ANYWAY, I'M BACK IN MTL AND IT IS SO HOT HERE I AM MELTING ALREADY I LEAVE IN A FEW DAYS TO MOVE MY SISTER IN AND THEN AFTER THAT, I THROW IN THE TRAVELING TOWEL. NO MORE PLANES! NO MORE AIRPORTS! JUST SLEEEEEEP FOREVER. :)