eat

eat, originally uploaded by alonelyhero.

here we are

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This is a test post from , a fancy photo sharing thing.

i sketched yesterday. trying again. and again. and again. will upload 7 sketches by the end of the week. sunday to saturday. start again


malformed musicians make melodies in midnight movies made in melon flats with nothing but  a married man and a make-shift camera

whoops

ahahahaha i FAIL. attempt number one at having a sketch a day completely did not work. time for strategy number Two. for a college writing class i have to create a creative project for part of my final portfolio. i have [with help of the lover] decided to have a dream diary for the next three weeks. and write a final paper on dreams and what they are, what certain things signify. what the things in my dreams signify. and how this is going to affect me? something like that it will be brilliant and fantastic. jolly good. how i incorporate the drawing a day into this is i will sketch a sketch that accompanies the dream in someway. perhaps not in an explainable way. but in a way. just a way.

i have now decide to write whatever i feel like in this blog. and not give a damn. i also have realized that i am incapable of being incredibly personal in something i can't control who views. which makes perfect sense. i think. i mean.. whatever. so the personal thoughts that i have will be kept in a dark secret moleskin that will never see the light of day. now i just have to find a moleskine. pretty sure i have one somewhere. i will go and find it. and write? i guess.

for the dream journaling. i read/heard somewhere that if you wake up quickly you have a more difficult time remembering dreams. so i guess that means i will have to forewarn the people in my lovely family of three not to touch or look and speak to me in the morning. yes. that is good. i like that excuse for not being disturbed as i disengage myself from dreamland in the morning and try to brace myself for a day of dealing with people. and stress. and things that i must now think about. for life. why does life have to be so complicated

you know how when you read histories. the characters that play in our past all have clear and detailed motives and consequences. history books go back through and erase all the fuzzy sketchy lines that living people have to wind their way through in the today. it would be so nice to live life like the past. not having to wonder. why or how. who or when. when. if IF goshdarned iffy if if. worst word EVER. i think. if and asparagus. both so chockablock full of ickyness that you can't even imagine the ickyness involved in its icky self.

lalala

tonight is the night for warm dark beds to be avoided

this is my reward for getting homework done. as soon as I finish i can come and do what i enjoy. blog. yay! i will be back. right back. in a little bit it is 8:55 right now. but i will wait for a few minutes because 8:55 is to even of a time. i prefer 8:57 and so i will wait for 8:57 to come around... ... 8:56... 8:57 it is 8:57 right now. i am going to go to home work. i will be back. in a little bit. to blog. because i like to rant. and write. and talk to people who don't exist.

it is now very late at night and I am blogging as i wait for my hair to dry. I now stay up even later to do this. I am tired enough to be completely devoid of a filter so whatever i write should be interesting to look at later. don't really want to sleep of late. to much to not do. i am so unproductive it's unfunny. my drawing has fallen behind. already. i need to set up a schedule for myself so that it happens Every day. not ever Other day.

Neon trees. i love thee

'tis the season of colds and i have one. the lover has one too. he's not allowed to come to school tomorrow because of it but he will anyways.

i have memories.

i live my life inside like a storybook. dictating to myself, myself. it makes things more interesting. and sometimes things will happen that are so perfectly nice they deserve a page of writing. saturday happens. [ed]

a broken picture inside a broken bottle of broken glass broken lying on the floor broken

broken

not yet. to far.

words that i find to be words that i love to find

broken

skin

glass

dusk

damp

coolness

find

lost

whimsical

celestial

ethereal

sublime

narrow

hollow

empty

they are beautiful words. simple. and so full of images i feel like they will break.

people are funny. i am funny. i can't listen to myself think because i can't think. to much mud on the floor upstairs and so i go splooch splooch when i walk. sticky gooy.

may i feel lost.

because i do

sometimes

perhaps it is this particular stage in my life.

i used to know exactly what i wanted. i wanted school. i wanted nice grades. i wanted the few friends i had. and that was fine. now i don't know. i don't want much of anything. i want tomorrow to be here before yesterday is over and i am tripping over nothing. because nothing is what's tripping me up. i need to do something with myself before i cave in and die

words i don't like very much except for sometimes

love

that word is so damned over used it makes me sick. i say i love you anyways. but i think i will have to invent a new word because i hate that word. it makes me sick. je t'iame.

my eyeballs are feeling like i pulled them out of my head and then shoved them back in but mixed up the eyes with the sockets and put them in the wrong ones like you sometimes put the wrong foot in the right shoe.

i might go to bed now. i keep feeling tempted to use this like a journal/diary thing-a-ma-bob but then i remember that for some odd reason i thought it would be cool to put my inner most thought on the internet where anyone could find them. why did i do this? i forgot. it is to late. good night computer screen. congratulations you have burned your eternal image onto my retina. now i can never forget you. *thunk*

broken computer key board

sigh

what was left after the fall was everything that wasn't there before

you will grow. and so will i. all that remains to be seen is whether we will grow into each other. or out

the weather

the weather today is most excellent and jolly good. my hand smell like earth and i have half the garden underneath my fingernails. weeding with gloves is for woosies. i am not a woosy. i have dirty fingernails. i am eating lunch and then going back to work. i have i long list assigned by my mother of things that need to be done today. if i don't get it don't saturday will be a day of list-work again. if i do complete the list i'm sure my mom will try to find something for me to do that will take up my saturday too. no unstructured time with boy. yes mama [oh master and list-work giver] fie upon you oh weeds and slugs. ugh. nobody loves a slug. they're slimy and the goo stays on your fingers. apparently it is good luck to step on a slug barefoot. i think that is only fair. compensation for the nastiness of bare-foot-slug-stepping. in the dark. when your half asleep. half. that did happen to me. a while ago. long while. a long-dad-was-still-alive-while. i have also had a spider crawl up my bare-naked. i was little. i had a shower. it was scary. i don't like daddylonglegs spiders. i only like spiders outside. or when they are moosh. blue skys and applesauce

have fun with life my non-readers

i like not having readers, don't you mikhaela? it makes writing so much nicer when you know no one is going to judge you

oh my non-readers, please stay non-readers forever and i will love you. even though you are busy not existing.