Saturday, January 8, 2011

So Fucking Deep.

I need to go to Hobby Lobby.
I need to get a little black book to vomit inky black thoughts into, and scribble nonsensical doodles. And some nice art pens. Oh babysitting money, fifteen dollars of you is going to that.
Here is what my life has been reduced to:
-School
-Sleep (always bad, never refreshing)
-Drawing
-Reading House of Leaves:

That's it.
I can't even decide whether I enjoy it or not.
My life as it is I mean. I don't think I do.


One things for sure, House of Leaves is the best part.
Add that to the list of things I need to buy. Definitely becoming my favourite book, rather quickly.

Bye.
Oh, and I want a tattoo.

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Dream About Me.


This isn't going to be lengthy.

I genuinely loathe going to the doctor.
Today was positively traumatizing. I'm sitting here, in shambles. I feel like I've vomited, but I haven't. I'm fear-stricken. I'm numb and lifeless and uncomfortable. Shaky and confused. It was a routine examination.

Crows are amazing. Crows are one of only three types of animals who talk to each other. They have a different voice for their family than for their friends. They can recognize a face for two years, and if threatened by the person, warn surrounding crows about the danger, and even generations following. I really like crows. I wish we had crows in El Paso.

I miss the black horse at the Jovi pasture. I saw him last night, he's such a darling. I think I'll call him Indigo. I've never seen a horse so love starved. He always puts up with me when I romp over to him, intoxicated, and pat him too roughly and speak too loudly in his teardrop shaped ears. Horses have sad eyes, and apparently I do too.

This post isn't about anything. I could write about a lot of things, but I'd rather not, nothing I blither is worth the trouble.

On a last note, I'm reading The House of Leaves. It's engrossing, consuming, captivating, mind blowing, and all other synonyms for the word. Also, it's goddamn frightening. I was reading in class today, and as I was staring out into space, with chills, in numbing reflection of a passage I had just read, someone took it upon themselves to pinch me from behind. I was shaking with terror, with clammy hands and frustrated breathing. This is a damn good book.

I lied. This wasn't a short entry. I'm a liar, another reason I'm not a good person.

-Tchus.