If someone really wants to listen to others hyped up false propaganda, well then I guess they can go ahead, but if they don't want to actually talk to the person being falsely accused, then there's really nothing for that person to do then just completely distance themselves from the entire pile of horse manure.
Always had the problem of trusting everyone. Can't trust anyone but a handful of good people.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Gurgley monster sounds.
Growing tired of the hunger pains I put myself through because of the lack of food in my house, and that I'm trying to be so frugal with what money I have left that I kind of refuse to eat. I do have vitamins however...
Let's just say I'm fasting for Thanksgiving. Hurry up, Thursday...
(Sidenote: I did eat something today, so lest anyone worry too much. Had to have something before my intense interview which was nerve-racking as hell.)
Let's just say I'm fasting for Thanksgiving. Hurry up, Thursday...
(Sidenote: I did eat something today, so lest anyone worry too much. Had to have something before my intense interview which was nerve-racking as hell.)
Friday, November 19, 2010
Welcome back, hazelnut coffee.
"Are you absolutely one hundred percent sure?" is a question that surfaces within the sea. It's very unlike me to be sitting at a solo small table downstairs of an incredibly chattery coffee shop at 10am - having not had the courage (nor drive) to be scribbling in public since the summertime. Lately all I've been jotting down is running to-do lists, like this most recent one:
"2pm today I will bludgeonly attempt a temp agency appointment - don't give up or be lazy - wisely monitor your drinking habits in the name of your monetary finances - give people the benefit of the doubt..."
In another corner a gentleman with a British accent pipes up about 'writing circuses' and 'art and media and trend-based' mumbo jumbo.
Ooh, now I'm being instantiated with tales of Copernicus and Galileo - why don't I do this more often? Maybe parents and elders had more than one meaning in mind when they told us to 'be seen and not heard,' not just our automatic response to talk back, or to be downright obnoxious.
This is surprising me at the moment - to calmly sit in a corner - almost puffing my chest up somewhat - as still as a praying mantis infiltrating another flock of praying manti (that sounds comical) what is this that I am realizing? My self confidence, even after all these weeks of absolute craziness in the cabeza, has been increasing exponentially?
Something is helping me bust out of my seams. I've handwritten this page with such fastidious fervour and gusto, that if any of these folks with their comrades, co-workers, or clients were to look up they'd see that I have been bitten by something so ravenous and extreme that I resemble a sturdy - yet psychotic - mad woman who seriously does not know what the hell she is doing but is pushing towards the future. in the nicest thought possible. with one pinkie up.
"2pm today I will bludgeonly attempt a temp agency appointment - don't give up or be lazy - wisely monitor your drinking habits in the name of your monetary finances - give people the benefit of the doubt..."
In another corner a gentleman with a British accent pipes up about 'writing circuses' and 'art and media and trend-based' mumbo jumbo.
Ooh, now I'm being instantiated with tales of Copernicus and Galileo - why don't I do this more often? Maybe parents and elders had more than one meaning in mind when they told us to 'be seen and not heard,' not just our automatic response to talk back, or to be downright obnoxious.
This is surprising me at the moment - to calmly sit in a corner - almost puffing my chest up somewhat - as still as a praying mantis infiltrating another flock of praying manti (that sounds comical) what is this that I am realizing? My self confidence, even after all these weeks of absolute craziness in the cabeza, has been increasing exponentially?
Something is helping me bust out of my seams. I've handwritten this page with such fastidious fervour and gusto, that if any of these folks with their comrades, co-workers, or clients were to look up they'd see that I have been bitten by something so ravenous and extreme that I resemble a sturdy - yet psychotic - mad woman who seriously does not know what the hell she is doing but is pushing towards the future. in the nicest thought possible. with one pinkie up.
Art Star.
I found myself in a place consisting of - an art gallery on the top floor, and a restaurant on the bottom floor. Having received permission (or I believe I was asked to) paint murals on all of the walls of the upstairs, I designed and laboriously worked on detailed, elegant landscapes - and intricate giant trees.
This, is a top view of the building, so essentially
two rooms worth of wall was covered:
- To get to the bottom level of the building, a fireman's poll was on one side of the double diamond and one small set of stairs was in the opposite corner.
- People were constantly in and out - looking around at the art and watching me paint while I had to randomly stop to see how smoothly everything flowed downstairs. In the restaurant, there was a smoking section (Left diamond) and a non-smoking (Right.) and even though it is non-realistic in reality, there wasn't a barrier or anything of the sort separating the two - the non-smokers coped with the faint smell, the motto seemed to be: "If you can't stand cigar[ette] smoke, don't bother coming (but you'll be missing out, obviously.)"
- Televisions were up on the walls in|on both stories - playing what was either a movie, video game (or movie videogame) of Wii-like characters, but short and stubbier, smooshed to look like Hello Kittys.)
One thing I couldn't seem to remember: if there was any conflict.
Main & Pleasa-vent
Sometimes I stop to think about it.
While the majority of my brain has cleared the outdated debris, tiny dust balls remain.
On one certain day a week (and is a weekly occurrence,) these dust balls containing fragmented memories either get kicked up and fly around (literally) or little caffeinated cartoon balls just, FLIP OUT, man. (figuratively.)
And they produce such questions, as to wonder,
Why so passe?
Will you just talk to me?
Do you enjoy being a jerk? (and that's said with a 'hate to say this, but in an all signs point to yes,' kind of way.)
And the ever so interesting, Why is it that when I do my finest at ignoring you, I actually feel like you're actually attentive in my direction?
It'll always be a mystery. One that I must keep in the past.
Stop diggin' that thar' hole. That'san order.
While the majority of my brain has cleared the outdated debris, tiny dust balls remain.
On one certain day a week (and is a weekly occurrence,) these dust balls containing fragmented memories either get kicked up and fly around (literally) or little caffeinated cartoon balls just, FLIP OUT, man. (figuratively.)
And they produce such questions, as to wonder,
Why so passe?
Will you just talk to me?
Do you enjoy being a jerk? (and that's said with a 'hate to say this, but in an all signs point to yes,' kind of way.)
And the ever so interesting, Why is it that when I do my finest at ignoring you, I actually feel like you're actually attentive in my direction?
It'll always be a mystery. One that I must keep in the past.
Stop diggin' that thar' hole. That'san order.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
The world is a cancer eating itself away.
"I recall distinctly how I enjoyed my suffering. It was like taking a cub to bed with you. Once in a while he clawed you - and then you really were frightened. Ordinarily you had no fear - you could always turn him loose, or chop his head off.
There are people who cannot resist the desire to get into a cage with wild beasts and be mangled. They go in even without revolver or whip. Fear makes them fearless. . . .
His courage is so great that he does not even smell the dung in the corner. The spectators applaud but he does not hear. The drama, he thinks, is going on inside the cage. The cage, he thinks, is the world. Standing there alone and helpless, the door locked, he finds that the lions do not understand his language."
There are people who cannot resist the desire to get into a cage with wild beasts and be mangled. They go in even without revolver or whip. Fear makes them fearless. . . .
His courage is so great that he does not even smell the dung in the corner. The spectators applaud but he does not hear. The drama, he thinks, is going on inside the cage. The cage, he thinks, is the world. Standing there alone and helpless, the door locked, he finds that the lions do not understand his language."
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
attn: everyone!
WILL DRAW, WRITE, TAKE REQUESTS for $$$!
plzzzzzzz donate! I promise to not disappoint!
(send all ideas to: marionettesque@gmail.com!)
MUCHO AMORE <3,
KD
plzzzzzzz donate! I promise to not disappoint!
(send all ideas to: marionettesque@gmail.com!)
MUCHO AMORE <3,
KD
Monday, November 15, 2010
The Life of an Unemployed Bachelorette....
.... who lives with a sixty and thirty year old man. Grounds for epic tale to be told? Would it be wrong to glamorize such a life? Not that I'd want to encourage folks to quit their jobs - hell, when I walked in to visit a friend at work a few days ago:
"Four and a half more hours of this," he says to me.
"I'd work it for you if I could!" I blurt back.
Dessssperado.
I'm such a house mouse now, so silent. Every footstep and crickety crack reverberates so easily - while I got to roam free in Williams Street, I am extremely self conscious of every action I make here. J'detest being extremely self conscious. Seriously, to all you 'Eff it I'm going to say and do what I want!' people, I partially envy you. (50% envy, 25% can't stand, 25% try to understand.)
A large portion of time is spent SCOURING the vast information superhighway for even a SPECK of work - in my skivvies? well, and a top. a top, and skivvies. In a way, I kind of feel like Carrie from Sex and the City right now. but not as prolific, nor stimulating. So yes I just admitted to currently being in skivvies looking for jobs.
My stubborn butt refuses to collect unemployment or food stamps. People are really getting on said gluteus maximus' case to apply for those. Although honestly I think one of them was being so persistent about it (at a bar) because he wanted to 'help' me aka touch my butt. No thank you...
"Four and a half more hours of this," he says to me.
"I'd work it for you if I could!" I blurt back.
Dessssperado.
I'm such a house mouse now, so silent. Every footstep and crickety crack reverberates so easily - while I got to roam free in Williams Street, I am extremely self conscious of every action I make here. J'detest being extremely self conscious. Seriously, to all you 'Eff it I'm going to say and do what I want!' people, I partially envy you. (50% envy, 25% can't stand, 25% try to understand.)
A large portion of time is spent SCOURING the vast information superhighway for even a SPECK of work - in my skivvies? well, and a top. a top, and skivvies. In a way, I kind of feel like Carrie from Sex and the City right now. but not as prolific, nor stimulating. So yes I just admitted to currently being in skivvies looking for jobs.
My stubborn butt refuses to collect unemployment or food stamps. People are really getting on said gluteus maximus' case to apply for those. Although honestly I think one of them was being so persistent about it (at a bar) because he wanted to 'help' me aka touch my butt. No thank you...
Sunday, November 14, 2010
They'll blow us to suckdom come.
Also: Guys suck. It has reached the breaking point of suckdom. I am honestly fed up. You show a little REAL com[passion] and then you get the big slap in the face.
Fueled by Diet Coke.
Well, almost a month since the last entry, and still in the position of unemployment. To get a good mental picture of how many times I've applied and followed up to places - let one lego block constitute a single application, and now imagine that stacked up as high as the leaning tower of Pisa.
So I might be exaggerating a wee bit, but after a recent attempt which seemed to be going very well (and what I proclaimed to be the 'perfect position' for myself) in which I had an interview, had homework (copious amounts of research and an interview molded into an article all nicely incorporated into an illustrious Power Point presentation which I was astutely proud of myself) was ready to present it - but it was apparent that another person was already picked for the part - when I was told I would come in and present it, they had me e-mail it instead, and got the 'we picked this person' e-mail shortly thereafter. (Commence the crying, shaking me at a bar later that night - out because I didn't want to be home, but completely quiet because I didn't feel like speaking to anyone.)
Since then, I'm trying my damndest not to be too jaded, and walking in town watching the sunset tonight, a thought popped in my head. Life is too fucking beautiful to be so bogged down worrying all the time. This does suck, I am very incredibly unsure about my future at the moment, but damn. I'm 25. And you know what? I'm not some stuck up shithead (excuse my french) who had everything handed to them on a silver platter, I've already almost worked for a decade of my life and did 4 years in college. I've always worked hard, and I've always tried my best. I have an amazing father who - lord knows has put up with my stubborn, ridiculous highs and lows, and is currently helping me out at the moment because this world is so crazy and money is so stupid.
Everyone is so worried, stressed out, and their mental capabilities are being tested and strained like slimy spaghetti that was cooked too long. Sometimes I wonder who stops to really appreciate a sunset anymore in this psycho world of technology. I seriously want to punch anyone who ever utters the phrase 'but there's an app for that!'
This is really discombobulated. I need to go do what I do to forget this nonsense. Sing some karaoke, and then begin the next day with more resume shuffling and yadda yadda.
So I might be exaggerating a wee bit, but after a recent attempt which seemed to be going very well (and what I proclaimed to be the 'perfect position' for myself) in which I had an interview, had homework (copious amounts of research and an interview molded into an article all nicely incorporated into an illustrious Power Point presentation which I was astutely proud of myself) was ready to present it - but it was apparent that another person was already picked for the part - when I was told I would come in and present it, they had me e-mail it instead, and got the 'we picked this person' e-mail shortly thereafter. (Commence the crying, shaking me at a bar later that night - out because I didn't want to be home, but completely quiet because I didn't feel like speaking to anyone.)
Since then, I'm trying my damndest not to be too jaded, and walking in town watching the sunset tonight, a thought popped in my head. Life is too fucking beautiful to be so bogged down worrying all the time. This does suck, I am very incredibly unsure about my future at the moment, but damn. I'm 25. And you know what? I'm not some stuck up shithead (excuse my french) who had everything handed to them on a silver platter, I've already almost worked for a decade of my life and did 4 years in college. I've always worked hard, and I've always tried my best. I have an amazing father who - lord knows has put up with my stubborn, ridiculous highs and lows, and is currently helping me out at the moment because this world is so crazy and money is so stupid.
Everyone is so worried, stressed out, and their mental capabilities are being tested and strained like slimy spaghetti that was cooked too long. Sometimes I wonder who stops to really appreciate a sunset anymore in this psycho world of technology. I seriously want to punch anyone who ever utters the phrase 'but there's an app for that!'
This is really discombobulated. I need to go do what I do to forget this nonsense. Sing some karaoke, and then begin the next day with more resume shuffling and yadda yadda.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
uncomfortably numb.
This is my pickley pickle.
- Housing situation.
- Hit by car, but okay.
- got let go of work, seasonal cutback.
- Financially... ?
- Where to go from here?
- Must be strong and figure this out myself...?
Waitressing is finito, secretarial job in high demand. (I highly demand it, to find one however...)
I think all these events are trying to tell me something... I'm trying to listen.
- Housing situation.
- Hit by car, but okay.
- got let go of work, seasonal cutback.
- Financially... ?
- Where to go from here?
- Must be strong and figure this out myself...?
Waitressing is finito, secretarial job in high demand. (I highly demand it, to find one however...)
I think all these events are trying to tell me something... I'm trying to listen.
Friday, October 15, 2010
yerple nerple.
[Don Aliff]
12:40am
that's good to hear. you always did that well
i haven't written anything since i've broken my hand
[You]
12:41am
:( i had to learn how to write with a broken hand in 1st grade
and succeeded!
[Don Aliff]
12:41am
well done!
[You]
12:41am
yeah, a bully knocked me down on a skating rink and i landed on it funny
[Don Aliff]
12:42am
little bastard
[You]
12:42am
i think he sadistically liked to see me cry, looking back on it now
[Don Aliff]
12:42am
find him and kill him
[You]
12:43am
i took my treasure trolls to school and he'd rip their hair out
[Don Aliff]
12:43am
yeah, sounds like your theory is spot on
[You]
12:43am
and chase me on the playground, to which my 1st grade crush chased after him to save me
[Don Aliff]
12:43am
chivalry is still alive and well in the young
[You]
12:44am
the crush was waiting at the side of the rink when the collision happened and he 'examined' it like a doctor when i went over to him and was like, 'yep, i think it's broken'
he also signed his name with a heart below it on my hot pink cast
[Don Aliff]
12:45am
smart kid, find him and marry him!
[You]
12:45am
he vanished the day before 1st grade ended and i never saw him again
[Don Aliff]
12:46am
you got a short story there. write it down
[You]
12:46am
it was... simple love.
and i still got to laugh at his underwear when he'd bend over - and he was okay about it. muahaha.
[Don Aliff]
12:47am
haha
[You]
12:48am
i want to imagine that he didn't think i was very aware of time because he got me a hip plastic watch for christmas
[Don Aliff]
12:48am
puppy love. cute
[You]
12:48am
obviously wrapped by his mom with his school picture on top
so suave
[Don Aliff]
12:49am
that's smoove
not smooth
smoove
i remember in kindergarten some girl called me handsome
[You]
12:50am
you know what would be nuts? if i could somehow, go out on a limb, call and ask my old elementary school in Dayton, Ohio if they would disclose any information about him... I've even asked old friends there if they'd ever seen him since - and no... he was gone
[Don Aliff]
12:51am
i was elated, butterflies in my stomache, all the cliches
[You]
12:51am
well that girl sounds awesome
[Don Aliff]
12:51am
and then i didn't talk to her again all year because i was shy, but in my mind she was my girlfriend haha
[You]
12:51am
aw.
12:40am
that's good to hear. you always did that well
i haven't written anything since i've broken my hand
[You]
12:41am
:( i had to learn how to write with a broken hand in 1st grade
and succeeded!
[Don Aliff]
12:41am
well done!
[You]
12:41am
yeah, a bully knocked me down on a skating rink and i landed on it funny
[Don Aliff]
12:42am
little bastard
[You]
12:42am
i think he sadistically liked to see me cry, looking back on it now
[Don Aliff]
12:42am
find him and kill him
[You]
12:43am
i took my treasure trolls to school and he'd rip their hair out
[Don Aliff]
12:43am
yeah, sounds like your theory is spot on
[You]
12:43am
and chase me on the playground, to which my 1st grade crush chased after him to save me
[Don Aliff]
12:43am
chivalry is still alive and well in the young
[You]
12:44am
the crush was waiting at the side of the rink when the collision happened and he 'examined' it like a doctor when i went over to him and was like, 'yep, i think it's broken'
he also signed his name with a heart below it on my hot pink cast
[Don Aliff]
12:45am
smart kid, find him and marry him!
[You]
12:45am
he vanished the day before 1st grade ended and i never saw him again
[Don Aliff]
12:46am
you got a short story there. write it down
[You]
12:46am
it was... simple love.
and i still got to laugh at his underwear when he'd bend over - and he was okay about it. muahaha.
[Don Aliff]
12:47am
haha
[You]
12:48am
i want to imagine that he didn't think i was very aware of time because he got me a hip plastic watch for christmas
[Don Aliff]
12:48am
puppy love. cute
[You]
12:48am
obviously wrapped by his mom with his school picture on top
so suave
[Don Aliff]
12:49am
that's smoove
not smooth
smoove
i remember in kindergarten some girl called me handsome
[You]
12:50am
you know what would be nuts? if i could somehow, go out on a limb, call and ask my old elementary school in Dayton, Ohio if they would disclose any information about him... I've even asked old friends there if they'd ever seen him since - and no... he was gone
[Don Aliff]
12:51am
i was elated, butterflies in my stomache, all the cliches
[You]
12:51am
well that girl sounds awesome
[Don Aliff]
12:51am
and then i didn't talk to her again all year because i was shy, but in my mind she was my girlfriend haha
[You]
12:51am
aw.
Ay.
This is what happens when you decide to orchestrate some 'considerably happy and upbeat' updates for the world so they're unaware of my current fear of everything but fear. Of course, this was my little 'thought bubble' on facebook where you can put anything your little heart desires, and boy when does my trap shut? Wait scratch that - my fingers want to write something. If this is the only 'BS' I can get out, well everyone can suck it, I'm going to say what I want to say. (I really don't mean that. It'd always be nice to be a little bit more badass.)
"The most glorious rice risotto with two kinds of mushrooms (1up x ?) is in mi estomago, which shook as i laughed at really funny shows and drank LIQUID COOKIES and looked at the best book ever that had things on cats and planted a bottle cap on elliot's heat and he wore it ever so proudly and I get to babysit him soon and our epic journey will be foretold and will be somewhat considerably better than Homeward Bound. but where we run to - no one will know. oh and Gaby and I are going to make a show?"
It's 12:32 America, and where are you?
"The most glorious rice risotto with two kinds of mushrooms (1up x ?) is in mi estomago, which shook as i laughed at really funny shows and drank LIQUID COOKIES and looked at the best book ever that had things on cats and planted a bottle cap on elliot's heat and he wore it ever so proudly and I get to babysit him soon and our epic journey will be foretold and will be somewhat considerably better than Homeward Bound. but where we run to - no one will know. oh and Gaby and I are going to make a show?"
It's 12:32 America, and where are you?
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Dreams...
I was seduced by a much older man in my dream last night - completely obsessed, he goes back to his wife, once he sees me again with his wife by his side, he goes mad - yells at me saying 'why did you let me go back to her she's so boring (his wife)' has a creepy gleam in his eye, and shoots me in my right arm. And then I wake up.
Seriously, my dreams are outrageous.
Seriously, my dreams are outrageous.
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