Fall quarter is going so fast.
I'm running away to work now.
My sheets smell like your detergent.
My ipod plays your songs.
I lack a venting unit. I need a friend that I can tell everything to.
(it's been a long time vox in socks. we need this again.)
Freshman year is at an end in one week.
By noon on Friday I will be back in my house 2000 miles from this place I live but call school.
The quarter system is tough; ten weeks of projects, switch for ten more, and switch again to finish the year.
Summer will bring new freedoms of time management, the ideation and follow-through of personal projects and hopefully enough work for me to afford to come back next year without worrying about money.
It's just tying up the loose ends now.
One more sculpture. One last garment. 50 lbs+ of clothes to pack into two suitcases.
to be the bigger person here.
I want to say 1000 nasty things that I would soon regret even if I meant them at that moment.
I had a dream you apologized for the terrible little things you know you said.
I thought you were sorry.
too bad it was only a dream.
Restlessness just means that you're not focusing properly.
I think I may just go out to the park by myself; bring a book, sketchbook, maybe some homework.
I need to get out and be.
pull me like taffy
apart
until there's not but threads
of pink purple paste
like bruises
let the sickening sweetness
melt into goo
in the palm of your hand
do with me what you will
mold me back together
pull me apart once more
only to end up with a sticky mess
that you can't get back to normal
then I could travel just by folding a map.
Sometimes I wonder if anyone really knows what they want or what they are supposed to do,
There are about a thousand directions that I could follow but it is unlikely that I'd ever follow one without wondering where the others went.
And you can't go back to the beginning to choose a different page number when you die, like in the "choose-your-own-adventure" books. Once you take a path you have to tunnel out your own detour if you wanna get somewhere else.
I am constantly learning.
Mostly I am realizing that I do not listen to myself.
I need to.
So much for eeny-meeny-miny-mo, right?
stolen from chronic thought. I chuckled a bit.
A daughter is just a little girl who grows up to be a friend. -Anonymous
we have a pillow in my house with this quote stitched into it and for some reason my dog is really infatuated with it lately. i should just let him tear the thing to shreads. it’s a crap quote anyways and clearly the author knew it, too. that’s why they didn’t fess up to saying the damn thing. you know, anonymous has a lot of nerve.
Doesn't make much sense to me either.
And her quip about "anonymous" reminds me of the stinky cheese man book, when the hen harps about that ISBN guy.
Silliness.
Sometimes I miss being a little kid.
[Here's the original post]
Oh what a skill to have. Oh, what a skill to have.
Silliness.
Anywhoozles,
so I'm feeling homesick.
And it's just about Easter (these are related, I think).
And my roommates are gone.
And my friends are mostly busy.
Fun stuff.
In other news, I got my Anthropologie, Nylon and BUST magazine clippings up on my wall.
It is my inspiration board of colors and cuts. I plan to put my sketches up there too, as they come about.
Applied Creative Thinking has got me working on this. It is a step in the one problem that I am going to solve efficiently (finding a fashion focus).
I also need to design an interior corridor this weekend, connecting a children's museum with an elementary school.
Glad I remembered this. I need it printed and mounted on foam core sometime before Monday.
Guess I'm living in Dyson computer lab tomorrow or Saturday.
At least I'm keeping busy.
This is life, I am realizing.
If nothing else, I have myself.
It's an experience.
Enough said.

on i think we might get along