dreaming in monochrome.

(by the fucking amazing julia comita)

i've been getting all these gorgeous black and white images back recently.

it's affecting the way i see things, though i can't grasp the words correctly to emphasize in what way, sleeplessness has stolen them.

you can only stay in an uncomfortable but convenient situation for so long.

and stay away from an exciting new one for slightly less...

i guess i just feel too ultimately transient to care to make decisions like that.


giving. (thanks.)

i'm really lucky.

unspeakably so.

i've decided i will ride this current wherever it takes me, and just do my best to hold on for dear life and be smart enough come out on top. what other 19 year old get to travel for a living while still making enough to save up to go back to school? if i was a more social creature the scales may tip less in favor, but i guess for once it's beneficial to operate autonomously.

happy turkey genocide day!


crooked teeth.

everything will work out as it should. i am not worried, i have things to do... and i'm in my favorite place in the US.

i have all these images from san diego of me making silly faces and being overjoyed because stan and keith are both freaking awesome... it's odd but looking through them helps me reconsider my situation in a more positive light. happiness is infectious.

MM keeps crashing and it is legitimately FUCKING with my ability to work.
i haven't felt so dependent since i quit chain smoking cowboy cigarettes.

still have plenty to catch up on, but i'm looking down the barrell of a much more relaxed week.

thank goodness.



all things happen for a reason...

this included.

i am serendipitous in my lack and abundance of control.

...please pardon my outbursts. i'm ok, really... mostly my eyeball just HURTS.... i'm so not ok with make up artists at the moment....



orchestration suffocation.

i am not doing well, and i don't feel comfortable enough to really detail why. all the contradictory emotions have me convinced i can trust no thing, feeling, thought or individual.

i have spread myself far too thin, exerted all my energy,
and no one gives a fuck.

whose fault is that but mine, i suppose....
chasing a future and dreams not mine to grasp.

the road is a true romance: a heart breaker.



my tattoo is latin for warning.

at the time i designed it i fancied myself a parasite, when it was engrained in my skin i thought myself a monster. now i know i'm just dangerously addictive in romantic terms, and while i'm certainly not nearly as mental as i used to be i am often distant and dislike vocally detailing my thoughts if they are at all painful or negative.

i am a much better person than i used to be, due to healthy doses of fucking up and a recent lack of alcohol in my diet, but the suit still fits.

once you tread over the track,
you'll keep persevering on,
not knowing how to turn back,
even when all love is gone.