I'm not your wonderwall, but you don't really need saving now, do you?

I feel like blogging about my days is pointless, because I'm pretty sure only one person reads this. But, there isn't really anything else to blog about, considering I'm done with the whole anonymous addressing thing. I feel like that just gets messy, ya know? People are always thinking things are about them when they're not, and when they are about someone, it turns out they don't even know your blog url. But, I got kissed in the end, so it turned out alright.

Anyways. These photos are from foreverrrrrrrrr ago. (Reality check: a week or two.) A giant and I attended the Salt Lake arts festival. It was quite enjoyable. I don't even know where to start, as far as artist are concerned. 

There was a man named Blake Palmer who had a painting called Red Cloud. It's a shame though, because I can't find it anywhere on his website, or on the internet. Also, I didn't even write the quote down, so I can't tell you what it said. I bought the most adorable mug from Barbara Schaecher, though. It's formed pefectly for the hand!! She had a great selection of mugs, and all of them were perfect. Buy some. But all of them. Your hot drinks will thank you. As will your hands. There was a booth by Shawn Harris and all of his pieces were 3D. It was super interesting. He said he used three programs to make them, one of which was Photoshop. Yay for Photoshop! I almost liked the way they looked without the glasses better, though. Either way, they were pear haps the most interesting of the night. 3D never fails to blow my mind. The artist was a very cool man as well. He had a beard and modeled for my favorite piece of his. It was him in a fish bowl wearing a childs blow up tube. I challenge you to find it. IT IS SO GREAT. Tanya Doskova was also really interesting. All of her paintings were symbolic. I think that all paintings are symbolic, but hers actually had explanations. There was this one that was like, a metaphor for the twenty first century. It was absolute craziness, haha. This painting of Gabe Leonard's was one of my favorites. The first one, of the woman smoking.

But, I'm not going to lie. My heart was stolen at booth 12. Kendra Baird. I can't even breathe. Her paintings are PHENOMENAL. The dripping, the umbrellas, the fading. I just... gahhhhh. I can't even handle it. Into The Rain is going to be the first original I purchase. Except, I'm pretty sure it's already sold. Regardless, it was the most beautiful piece at the whole festival. Congratulations, Kendra. You have earned the #2 spot on my list of favorite paintings.

Anyways, I feel like I'm done with that rant. We got some fries and ate them while listening to spoken word. They were not my taste, at first. Super lovey dovey. Although, there was one line that I absolutely loved. "I'll make you beautiful, because I'm not." Isn't that gorgeous? I love it. Then, she performed some darker ones, which I loved, of course. "She is drinking me" was one of my favorite lines. I wish she had videos on youtube, or something, so you could watch for yourself, but whatever.

Anyways, that's pretty much it. Go to the arts festival next year, it's a real great thing. 

I'm off to bed. Tomorrow is my last day of work, before my day off. I MADE IT THROUGH 17 DAYS OF WORK. I almost can't believe I'm still living. But, it would appear I am. 

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"I just wish I cried at beautiful things."

-L.L.

we're ghosts, but we just don't know it yet.

I'm falling asleep as I write this.

And I don't know why I'm running.

another day

These are the people I associate with, as of late. 

I'm quite fond of them all, really.

How ironic is it I finally get a friend group now that I'm out of high school.

Is that irony? I struggle with applying irony to everyday situations. Also, just in general.

Anyways, I love all these people and wish I could turn them into little chocolate figurines to keep with me at all times and then when it gets hot and they melt we can make chocolate milk and drink it on the lawn while chatting about things that matter for once because sometimes it's better than at night but only if you're with people who matter and they all do so it would work out great.

I'm annoying right now. Sorry. These late nights are wonderful though, and most definitely worth the four hours of sleep.





Don't search for blue your whole life through.

In the mean time.

I guess I'm just hoping we'll all communicate.

I'm hoping that you'll ask me on an actual date, if you like me. And, maybe you'll kiss me somewhere original, because everyone hates being door stepped, and a car isn't much better. Oh, and while you're at it, stay solid; literally. Won't you? And maybe let's go camping on the west coast, because we can if we want and we're super cool.

I'm hoping that you'll stop asking me questions I don't want to answer. Because, I think that's your problem. I think you ask questions, but you never answer them. You never answer them for yourself, at least. That's why you're like this, you know. Stop asking everyone and ask yourself instead. Or at least try it. I mean, REALLY try it. Don't just half ass it, because you think you can buy time.

I'm hoping that you'll turn out great, because I think you could do real great things if you really wanted to. I think you could get a real great girl and live in a real great house and eat real great food, if you wanted to. But, maybe you don't want to and that's where all the conflict arises from. So, stop lying to everyone, maybe?

I'm hoping that you'll feel better. Not that I think you feel bad in the first place, but things can be hard sometimes, and we all understand that. You're really a cool person, you know. And, I don't mean that in the junior high way. You're actually a cool person. You're going to change things, if you want. If you really care, that is. Which, I can tell you do, actually. Not just because of the green leaves, but because of your laugh.

I'm hoping that you'll stay really amazing. With your hair being the way it is, and your nick name being what it is. You're just, great. I hope you know that, and I hope you know that other people know that as well. You're a keeper, but only to people who deserve it. Ok? Don't forget any of that, ok? Because, I'll never say it to your face.

I'm hoping that you'll stay this way, except you'll change. Because, you're on the fence. You really are. You're a phony, and you know it. You're working at nothing and you're playing with people, because they are temporary. That doesn't mean they don't have feelings, though. Oh, and you have to break the cycle. But, you will. You know you will. So, make sure everything stays solid and you'll be just fine.

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Oh, and one last thing. Make sure you don't talk about this, ok? This, I mean, THIS. Make sure you don't ask me about it and tell me what you think. I will lie. I honestly will.

So, my computer has decided to not let the internet work anymore.

It's actually really sad, because I actually have photos to post now. I have photos from Subway and photos from the housewarming party.

I've been hanging out with incredibly awesome people lately.

I'll keep trying, because it needs to work at some point. Hopefully, before college. That would be a disaster.

Anyways, that's all I really have to say.

Farewell.

"Everything beautiful in architecture has been done already."

Maybe, I'll stop talking in metaphors one day, because no one understands why I'm a robot anyway. Or why my gnomes are no longer necessary.

Maybe, I'll stop thinking boys will catch my hints, because I guess they haven't even heard of that word before.

Maybe, I'll stop not saying things I want to say in situations, because they would make for a much more interesting story later.

Maybe, I'll stop with all the nick names and I'll tell all those strangers I like the way their faces look and I like their button up shirts.

Maybe, I'll do that. 

Maybe, I'll chicken out, because I'm really not good with words in real life. I'm not good at saying goodbye at airports, and I'm not good at saying goodbye on the telephone. I'm not good at leaving voicemail messages and I'm not good at telling boys I like them. I'm not good at discussing the problems I'm having with the people I'm having them with. I'm not good at any of that, really. But, I suppose I should improve, because I don't want to turn into One Of Those People.

So, I'm going to start being awesome with words. I'm going to start answering your questions when you ask them, and I'm going to start telling the truth about what I think about you. I'll do that. I really will.




Just promise me you won't melt, ok? That really would make for a difficult situation come fall.

These photos are from my graduation and have nothing to do with what I wrote.

I'm not asking for a lot, really.

Just a picnic at Fairyland with the button up shirt you wore in that one picture. And a Dawson's Creek marathon because there's nothing else to do. Oh, and maybe some of that cheese that you talk so fondly of. I could use some of that. Just not the kind I had before. Not the flowers-on-Valentine's-day kind. I'm talking about the first-kiss-while-playing-laser-tag type. The non-disgusting-PDA type. The swimming-and-snow-cones type.  The notes-and-secrets type. That kind is so much better, wouldn't you agree? And let's have some late night chats around fake things while we're at it, and agree high school is stupid. Let's discuss things we know nothing about and pretend to be mature. It's better than being the epitome of high school douche bag, even if high school doesn't think so. Let's drink things we can't pronounce and try to break social norms. Let's avoid social events and go to the arcade every day until we can pool our tickets together and buy a lava lamp. 

Let's make sure to just do things without asking permission, because we don't want to turn into Alex. Oh, and lastly, let's make sure this doesn't melt into the last half of August, because I have things to do and I know you've got those plans of yours.

P.S. Dear Girl Who Doesn't Need A Nickname, don't show this to anyone. If you catch my drift.


XOXO

In the mean time, I'll wrap my gnomes up and stuff them in my closet, because they aren't as necessary and I thought they were.

I was going to stop posting on this blog, but I decided to keep it until I get my new computer and Photoshop. My free trial of cs6 ran out on the 31st, and it's super hard to go back to Photoscape. Ahhhh. But, hopefully I will make enough money this summer to have enough to buy it when school starts. But, for now, this will be my amateur-high-school-teen blog. I might as well get it all out of my system.

Anyways. Last night I attended a pool party at The 40 Year Old Teenager's house. The Awkward Indie Boy didn't come, and I feel like he would have contributed an interesting quality to the night. I should have called him. 

But, The 40 Year Old Teenager was there and he was enjoyable. We talked about how there's no communication. The Coffee Shop Boy was there as well, and he was just as great as I thought he'd be. The Girl Who's Going Places and I took our friendship to the next level and decided we are extremely similar. The Girl With The Zelda Tattoo entertained my friend and his friends, which was nice. I guess the rest of us weren't as entertaining as they thought we should have been. Overall, it was a good night. Except for the end. I think something should have happened, and it didn't. Also, something else was annoying, but, it's not like everyone is here to make me happy.

Only my gnomes, right?

She had blue skin.

And so did he.

He kept it hid

And so did she.

They searched for blue

Their whole life through,

Then passed right by --

And never knew.


-Shel Silverstein

"I should have left long ago."

“He forgot men, the Dean and the principle behind the Dean, which he wanted to discover. He thought only of how lovely the stone looked in the fragile light and of what he could have done with that stone.”

-Ayn Rand, The Fountainhead

"I don't usually let things happen to me."

I want to see, real, living, and in the hours of my own days, that glory I create as an illusion. I want it real. I want to know that there is someone, somewhere, who wants it, too. Or else what is the use of seeing it, and working, and burning oneself for an impossible vision? A spirit, too, needs fuel. It can run dry.

-Ayn Rand

"These rocks, he thought, are here for me;"

None of these pages are the same. They're not even in the same book. That's funny to me, because when we talked I was under the impression that all these people had my books. I thought I had theirs as well. I thought we had weekly discussions about our favorite characters and chapters and lines.

It turns out they burned them for warmth while they were waiting for something that was never coming in the first place. They burned them and now it's just ash in my fireplace. I don't like ash in my fireplace. I like my fireplace clean and empty. I don't like it filled with ash. Especially not the ash of my favorite books.

Maybe, they're not my favorites anymore. Maybe, they never were. Maybe, they were just books I picked up for half off in the self-help section. Maybe my favorites are really The Alligator and The Coyote and The Zoo. And you know what? Probably, The Antelope as well. I like those ones, and I always have. Maybe those are my real favorites. And maybe no one else has those, but it honestly doesn't even matter.

I hope that ash stays in my fireplace forever. I hope it sits there and watches me read my real favorites. I hope it stays that terribly boring shade of black. I hope no one notices it; not even when the wind picks up and it blows all over the rug. Not even then. Not even ever.

Ash isn't worth my time, and it most definitely isn't worth yours.

I can't fix you.