don't blog much anymore these days, i'm not sure why. i guess i am lazy. that and i... just lazy. i have so much to say, so many thoughts it feels like they drip out of my ear all over the TTC.
for one: YES I'D LIKE TO SIT THERE. EXCUSE ME, EXCUUUUSE ME, YES YOU, WAKE UP, YOUR BAG IS ON THE SEAT THAT HALF OF WHICH YOUR ASS ALREADY OCCUPIES. stuff like that. but that's mean, and i don;t roll on meanness. mostly i keep those thoughts to myself because it's just The Rage that i need to keep at bay- or i'd probably actually kill someone.
in other news, i am a loner. newsflash! i stayed in tonight in lieu of going to see some flamenco because i'd rather sit in the tub with a choco martini and Kingdom of Fear than go out and deal with people. sometimes i hibernate. sometimes is now.
sometimes you realize how much you've changed, and how much you've stayed the same, about 50/50. i have less friends right now, but simply because i decided i was sick of the cool people who know all there is to know about pop culture yet are stuck in the same bullshit life day in, day out. i want to change and the only way to change is to fucking change, gringo. i did so due to circumstances beyond my control (stroke boyfriend love loyalty) and due to the desire to change... constantly. i don't understand stagnation.
i may have not sold anything at the art show i did this summer, but i DID IT. and i enjoyed it. and it cost me a lot of money, but i don't care. everyone tries to convince me that i should care, but i don't. money is so worthless when you consider all the things money can't buy (of course, money can buy martini makins).
i attended a writing workshop this week to get me out of my hole of not writing, and as it turns out, i appear confident to others. score. it's working, i told them as i smiled shyly in their direction fully aware of the fact that i had far more confidence than them. but these are just observations, not condemnations and you should never mistake one for the other.
the things is, so many people mistake my shyness for low self esteem which is untrue. i can be deathly shy, but i will always walk across a room like i own it... and i will always tell you to leave me alone if you are bothering me.
like when some random man at the streetcar stop talks to me at 3am. now i'm not one to turn down talking to someone, people are interesting... even if they turn out to be manipulative assholes. and he was. oh hi, yes, your name? my name? it is late. i anticipate the streetcar any minute now. silence. more silence. so can i have your number? my brain made that sound, you know when bugs bunny gets caught in the mechanical thingamabobber and everything goes berzerk? that sound.
my number? naw dude, sorry. but why? because i don't want to give it to you. we can be streetcar stop friends. okay. silence. then... can i have your number? come on. where i come from people are not afraid of eachother. yes, well this is not where you come from and the fact that you shoved the non sequitur "you are very beautiful" between two sentences makes me think you're drunk. and that you think i'm stupid. and then there's the sitting next to me on the streetcar... when i sat in a single seat. i mean, take a hint, man. have some dignity, some pride... your desperation reeks of desperation- you are redundant. and then he went away and tried to make me feel sorry for him. and then he turned around and looked sad and said bye when i got off the streetcar... to which i replied, with a cold hard... see ya...
here's the thing: contrary to what i said before, i do have friends. some friends. not you. i don't need many and i'm not a people-vacuum.
ugh. when i got home i was so angry, i ranted to my boyfriend about how men think they are entitled to everything about you simply because you happen to occupy the same area for longer than two seconds. and how h e felt it was his right to take my time from me, my time to think... my own thoughts invaded by some stranger i could care less about. you are so not entitled, my friend.
well, as it turned out, my boyfriend who had ridden his bike to the thing we went to, well he beat me home. he also had time to stop for pot and everything.
roll a joint? why yes officer, i think i will...
for one: YES I'D LIKE TO SIT THERE. EXCUSE ME, EXCUUUUSE ME, YES YOU, WAKE UP, YOUR BAG IS ON THE SEAT THAT HALF OF WHICH YOUR ASS ALREADY OCCUPIES. stuff like that. but that's mean, and i don;t roll on meanness. mostly i keep those thoughts to myself because it's just The Rage that i need to keep at bay- or i'd probably actually kill someone.
in other news, i am a loner. newsflash! i stayed in tonight in lieu of going to see some flamenco because i'd rather sit in the tub with a choco martini and Kingdom of Fear than go out and deal with people. sometimes i hibernate. sometimes is now.
sometimes you realize how much you've changed, and how much you've stayed the same, about 50/50. i have less friends right now, but simply because i decided i was sick of the cool people who know all there is to know about pop culture yet are stuck in the same bullshit life day in, day out. i want to change and the only way to change is to fucking change, gringo. i did so due to circumstances beyond my control (stroke boyfriend love loyalty) and due to the desire to change... constantly. i don't understand stagnation.
i may have not sold anything at the art show i did this summer, but i DID IT. and i enjoyed it. and it cost me a lot of money, but i don't care. everyone tries to convince me that i should care, but i don't. money is so worthless when you consider all the things money can't buy (of course, money can buy martini makins).
i attended a writing workshop this week to get me out of my hole of not writing, and as it turns out, i appear confident to others. score. it's working, i told them as i smiled shyly in their direction fully aware of the fact that i had far more confidence than them. but these are just observations, not condemnations and you should never mistake one for the other.
the things is, so many people mistake my shyness for low self esteem which is untrue. i can be deathly shy, but i will always walk across a room like i own it... and i will always tell you to leave me alone if you are bothering me.
like when some random man at the streetcar stop talks to me at 3am. now i'm not one to turn down talking to someone, people are interesting... even if they turn out to be manipulative assholes. and he was. oh hi, yes, your name? my name? it is late. i anticipate the streetcar any minute now. silence. more silence. so can i have your number? my brain made that sound, you know when bugs bunny gets caught in the mechanical thingamabobber and everything goes berzerk? that sound.
my number? naw dude, sorry. but why? because i don't want to give it to you. we can be streetcar stop friends. okay. silence. then... can i have your number? come on. where i come from people are not afraid of eachother. yes, well this is not where you come from and the fact that you shoved the non sequitur "you are very beautiful" between two sentences makes me think you're drunk. and that you think i'm stupid. and then there's the sitting next to me on the streetcar... when i sat in a single seat. i mean, take a hint, man. have some dignity, some pride... your desperation reeks of desperation- you are redundant. and then he went away and tried to make me feel sorry for him. and then he turned around and looked sad and said bye when i got off the streetcar... to which i replied, with a cold hard... see ya...
here's the thing: contrary to what i said before, i do have friends. some friends. not you. i don't need many and i'm not a people-vacuum.
ugh. when i got home i was so angry, i ranted to my boyfriend about how men think they are entitled to everything about you simply because you happen to occupy the same area for longer than two seconds. and how h e felt it was his right to take my time from me, my time to think... my own thoughts invaded by some stranger i could care less about. you are so not entitled, my friend.
well, as it turned out, my boyfriend who had ridden his bike to the thing we went to, well he beat me home. he also had time to stop for pot and everything.
roll a joint? why yes officer, i think i will...
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