dying for an idea is stupid. you can't touch an idea, or talk to it or kiss it. i always thought i would much rather die for me, one thing that will always be our own. or for someone else, because to invest that much passion in a realm outside our own mind must be worth something, anything.

and yet it is the ideas that go on, beyond the person who lie wayside and forgotten. do you know who invented the concept of lunch break? no? neither do i. but every time the bell rings at 1.20, it's salvation.

ideasideasideas.

Tumblr is cool.

Lets go get one!

Gah! I love economics class.

Also beginning to collect quotes again, I've realised I cannot afford not to.

Good Morning! I'm finally getting out of bed:D

I haven't been blogging so that I could use that image as an excuse.

*is guiltless*

Monday, March 9, 2009
-m4w -28
You had a guitar. I had a blue hat. We exchanged glances and smiles on the subway platform. I pretended to read my New Yorker but I couldn't concentrate. You got on the Q and I stayed on to wait for the B. You were lovely.
taken from sophie blackall

I would like a light blue fedora.

(everything seems to happen in nyc)

There are a lot of things I do which I do not actually enjoy, have no idea why I'm doing them and quite a bit of it unnecessary. It creates strange strange perceptions of me that I'm not entirely sure are accurate but many which are amusing (in my head, because I am selfishly convinced
that no one will understand *omgtears*, but of course there are people who understand because hasn't countless adolescent identified with Sylvia Plath and then looked back and admit to only liking her, ironically, for they are too embarrassed to be associated with such melodrama...and I have to stop doing this retrospective thinking thing, I can't believe I'm nostalgic for a now that isn't even over yet. )

(parentheses abuse!).
()()
(-_-)
c((")(")


It takes a certain something to not give a shit about anything and maintain the consistency. I have developed a certain admiration for that.

Hello world, stop screwing with me so that I can stop screwing with you because I will look at everything you deal to me in a billion angles and then self combust from the effort.

(haha, there will be a time when i look back and wonder when any of this made sense because i doubt nothing else but a convoluted, screwed up over-active thinking of a teenage girl's mind can ever ever comprehend why all this was relevant.)

(damn it i have to stop retrospecting)

I will have to back to school next week.

and deal with grey stockings, too tight ties and people.

*dull*