hospital.

I just got out, the tag is still on me. I feel like crap from the anaesthetic, and my head is swimming. Going shopping with the girls tonight for Vesna's birthday present -tomorrow. I want a piercing and I feel like I'm going to throw up...way to ruin a perfectly fine Friday.

happiness.

Football, even though Tigers suck.

Aleksandr Petrovsky, my bear.
Angry Little Girls in Love.
Socks with nice prints.
Vesna's photography.
Chocolate crossiants.
Alice in Wonderland.
Oversized jewellery.
Interesting clothes.
Frozen apple juice.
Designer House.
Black nailpolish.
Dunhill Reds.
Good books.
Boost Juice.
Green Day.
Postcards.
Coca Cola.
Piercings.
Make up.
Walking.
LA Ink.
Winter.
Dinner.
Rain.

The things that make me smile.

weekend.

I don't need an excuse to put a picture of Fernando Torres, nawwww.





Today is Friday and I am actually leaving my house after a week. Going to school in about an hour to finish my art, then going home with Julia and going to "dinner".
Yay, a dinner of bottled water and cigarettes.
That actually doesn't sound half bad :|
Now I'm watching Eastern Promises.
It's basically impossible to create a better movie than this.



YAY FOR VIGGO MORTENSEN
"'Sentimental value'. I've heard of that."

let go.

The other day, as I rummaged through the foreign things in my cupboard, I found a folder. I opened the folder and found a case of blank CDs, a small pouch of coins, and an envelope brimming with letters from the past. As I examined each of my findings, I was unpleasantly surprised. As I tried to play each of the CDs, I found they were scratched and ruined, and would not run. As I inspected each of the coins, I found that they were merely those of past or foreign currencies and there for dubbed as useless. As I read over the letters, I found their words held little purpose or meaning and the feelings of joy I’d once felt by reading these very words were now replaced by indifference and impassivity. I soon realized that the folder itself had meaning, as it collected the very things that were broken and beyond repair, the things that were once meaningful and now useless, the things that once held emotion and were now looked upon callously – the relationships and feelings that could not be salvaged. The folder was the part of me that bound together everything that was once there, but no longer is. And as I replaced the folder and continued rummaging through my possessions, I realized I was doing the exact thing the “folder” within me had been longing for me to do – move on.

the facts.

I never took much of a liking to people, now I understand why. I love being alone. I do not know what I want to do after school, but I do want my own apartment and car. I'm interested in interior design. When I'm excited I speak so fast it's impossible to understand what I'm saying. I'm scared of fish and birds. I have ugly, tiny hands. I believe that Entourage is the Sex & The City of the male world. I'm 5'2. Burnt sugar smells amazing. I have ten piercings, eight of them in my ears. My favourite shop is Dakota 501 on Chapel Street. I was a vegetarian for six months, before the doctor told me I was anemic. I sleep with socks on. My cigarettes of choice are Dunhill Reds. I have the shittiest immune system...ever. I don't drink alcohol. I adore unusual, beautiful art, and obscure things people normally wouldn't take an interest in. My hero is Adolf Hitler.
I am me.

it's been a while.

In fact, it's almost been an entire month since my last post.
So much has happened that I cannot possibly just sum it all up in words.
So I think I may start fresh.




What the shit is up ?!






I'm also in love with David Villa.
What a beautiful, beautiful man.