read on to hear my broken thoughts and insanely vague descriptions.
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ericamay, 25may1995, single forever, devoted to peter pan
charlieissocoollike, doctor who, peter pan, you me at six, i see stars, andy oliver, devin oliver, ribbons, bows, drummers, bright colours, black and white contrast, people who smile a lot, laughing, beats, rhythms, being good at something, fireworks, writing, sketching, details, internet, photoshop, graphic design, coding, paint, crayons, paper, plain goldfish, the colours green and blue, prince phillip, princess aurora, tinkerbell, neverland, disneyland, disneyworld, crush the turtle, chemistry, storybook romance, arctic monkeys, britain, irish accents, every accent, scottish boys, skinny boys, pale boys, collarbones, freckles, gingers, photobooths, madina lake, billy idol, chocolate chip cookies, toffee, tiny marshmallows, hot cocoa, good memories, bloodrushes, laughing, singers, musicians, good headphones, punching the backs of car seats while listening to hardcore music in parking lots, hugs, kisses, winter, sweaters, hoodies, scarves, snowflakes, eyelashes, pretty eyes, dark hair, blonde hair, straight hair, wavy hair, offensive humours, people who don't take things seriously, heated debates, awkward moments, having private concerts home alone, red pandas, sharks, weasels, minxes, puppydogs, kittycats, post-it notes, caring reminders, strawberries, raspberries, william beckett, matt smith, karen gillan, david tennant, alex turner, joe brooks, noah and the whale, mumford and sons, los campesinos, french people, foreign languages, magic tricks, illusions, photographs, macros, doodling people i know, doodling people i wish i knew, pens that flow smoothly, shortbread cookies, tapping my feet, high fives, pokemon, laughing so hard i cry, being told people love me, winning, swedish fish, candies, neil patrick harris, nerimon, frezned, danisnotonfire, alexisonfire, billy talent, taking back sunday, john gomez, brian dales, alex pettyfer, logan lerman, tumblr, squareenix, old names, music class, good friends, late-night confessions, hanging out anywhere, eccentricity, spontaneous people, people with good memories, being unforgotten, lyricists, air heads, scissors, kicking, unicorns, rainbows, miss rainicorn, adventure time with finn and jake, flapjack, we came as romans, architects, joy division, two door cinema club, emma watson, george craig, emma watson and george craig together, the hoosiers, old photos, chalk drawing, graffiti, skateboarders, bmx riders, comic fanatics, superheros, guys, candy in tin cases, pastel stars, pointless wishing, sweet dreams, morning messages, text conversations, honey on toast, apple jelly, internet memes, advil, motion city soundtrack, vampire weekend, rolo tomassi, people named connor, people named sebastian, william, james, oliver, owen, eoin, alexander, joshua, andrew, aaron, christopher, jackson, hunter, and the like, the afterlife kids, downloading music, new downloads, video games, rpgs, shooter games, screaming, all forgotten, arcade fire, the asteroids galaxy tour, kick ass, aaron johnson, christopher mintz-plasse, devon werkshire, thick rimmed glasses, flickr, hipsters, cute kids, never growing up, beastie boys, we are the ocean, blink182, chameleon circuit, john green, hank green, paper towns, the perks of being a wallflower, lewis carroll, c.s. lewis, absolute brightness, the chronicles of narnia, lockets, trinkets, mimes, golden pocketwatches, nifty antiquities, halloween, sewing, the click five, parkway drive, cold war kids, obscurities, confessions, bookstores, candy stores, inside jokes, walls of wonder, being awesome, skins, kaya scodelario, luca pasqualino, jack o'connell, nicholas hoult, max hewer, hannah murray,
and a number of other things...
i feel this is necessary.
does anybody already know
of my obvious obsessions? omg, alex pettyfer -- he's so gorgeous. i swear, i know so much about him -- it comes from the day that i scanned his biography very intently. i could recognize the exact location of that cross tattoo anywhere (: so anyways, NEW MOVIE WITH HIM? and, GUESS WHAT? it's got neil patrick harris in it, too. he's really cute. him + alex pettyfer = [who cares that vannessa hudgens and mary kate olsen are in it, too?]
xx
there was a time
when i'd look forward to Christmas oh-so much. as soon as the snow fell in november (that's right, it used to snow in november) and the advent calendar on neopets was open again in december, i'd be filled with such joy for the season. i grew up in a toronto apartment and all, but we still managed to harbour an actual tree to decorate. i'd count down the twenty-five days with my chocolate calendar and eat the confections with excitement, even if they tasted stale from sitting in cardboard up until that moment. the carols that played in malls and on the radio were enjoyed, even though they were repetitive and corny. when Christmas Eve came, nobody could sleep with butterflies in their tummies. waking at 7'oclock was nothing for us as we'd watch outdated and classic Christmas films until Mom and Dad woke up, or maybe sneak off to the presents to inspect them all before we could be caught. ripping off the corners to get a hint of what was inside. sometimes, the wrapping paper would be the best part, ripping it off whatever was inside. it was, altogether, a great feeling.
fastforward to now.
what happened to it all? it didn't snow until half-way through december and not too many people bought gifts, just for the people they KNEW. everything's so commericalized and everyone complains about what's playing on the radio. kids don't seem to pay any attention to the chocolate calendars anymore. i don't know about you, but i went to sleep easily -- i even FORGOT it was Christmas. the BIRTH OF JESUS CHRIST. church was packed with people, so much so that more people were standing than sitting, but the complaints and looks of impatience were enough to ruin the spirit. i wanted to sleep in. it didn't feel like Christmas, it still doesn't. the whole gift unwrapping session took seven minutes, tops, and all the wrapping paper was thrown in the recycling bin. and now, i'm sitting here, on my laptop with my dad in the same room, doing the exact same. i've got a brother who's never even built a snowman before and i can't help but feel bad. isn't that what we used to do after Christmas morning -- pile up our snowpants and layers of clothing and make snow angels? i read about and think about lonely people, who probably sit alone in their empty homes with the pictures hung up on the walls. or the poor, who sit in shelters, experiencing an ounce of the happiness they should.
oh Christmas, where have you gone?
xx
but it's all my secret intention.
kay guys, here's the deal: I'M ACTUALLY GOING TO NARNIA NEXT FEBRUARY.
well, actually, i'm going to disneyland [or world, whichever is in florida.] which has a NARNIA ATTRACTION. i don't think my life could be any more complete. and did i mention this will be 2 WEEKS OFF OF SCHOOL. i mean, i'll get antsy about homework missed and all that jazz, but when i'm on the plane to florida or i'm skippin' downtown with mickey mouse, it really won't flippin' matter to me :D
...and right after the six days of disney, i'm going on a cruise. just thought i'd throw that in, too.
xx
this is madness.
i can't believe i'm actually going to admit this but i have started using a tumblr and -- golly darnit -- i'm well addicted. i've posted eight things between last night and now and i've actually got it OPEN IN A TAB, which isn't all that impressive since i have about a million tabs open at a time. nevertheless, this tumblr can be found on my opening page on in a link right here.
i don't know how it's possible, really.
Adorable? Sure. My type? Wouldn't know - haven't found it yet. But one thing's pretty definite - I can't help but smile at the thought of you. Honestly, it's weird and I'll probably look back on this and think to myself "wow, old habits die hard, huh?" but for now I guess I'll just see what happens. I'm not expecting a miracle or anything really - no matter the irony, you're still a constant reminder of the past. I'm writing this for lack of anything better to write about, even though I'm sure this is going to end up becoming a big deal. Not on the web, no, but in my restless, schizotypal-almost mind. For now, we'll just call it a crush because, by definition, it fits; it's just a sudden, strong - often short lived - romantic attraction.
Maybe I'm just in it for the challenge.
xx
Despite the whiny title,
you don't have to worry; I'm not going to complain about anything, ahaha. In fact, my life is pretty pleasant. Well, in moderation, that is. I mean, yes, there are chips and potholes along the road, but if you consider it, I haven't got it too bad.
First snow of the year (as in, snow that provoked snowball fights) and I realized that I really don't like how grass pokes through the snow. It was like the bloody blades of grass just cracked through my dreams and shattered my hopes.
I'll write more when I have something to say.
xx
I had to delete
most of my older posts because of some glitch in the coding. As unhappy as that may have made me, I can say I don't mind much at all. Anyways, here is that post I'd been meaning to put up. Maybe you'd like to read it? - I'd value that (: There are bugs here and there - tiny little typos - so just don't mind them. Thank you (:
xxxxxxxxxxxxx
TUESDAY, JUNE 26, 2OO9
the epic battle between myself and sleep
189.73665962. 36,000, when simplified. For those of you easily overwhelmed with large values collected in the numeral form, that’s thirty-six-thousand. But the question in tow was: What is so significant about this number? It is a large number and could very well describe a number of irrelevant things – however, since you do not know the topic I am about to unfold, a matter of irrelevance is nowhere in your authority to judge – but in this particular context, it is the number that describes the amount of seconds a person wastes of their lives, soaking themselves up in spontaneous messages that the brain portrays. And what were these messages? Dreams, that is what they are. You may argue with me that dreaming is not a waste of time, but think of it this way: The average, healthy human being will live to be eighty, as so described by recent scientific speculation (of course it very well depends on which country’s lifespan you are focusing on, for they all differ based on their value of life; disease, fresh water, material qualities, etc.) which just so happens to be 6, 912, 000 seconds of life. That’s right, almost seven million. Despite that large number of seconds, 2,880, 000 seconds of the average lifetime will be spent asleep. Ideally, that’s 33 years, 121 days, 15 hours, 59 minutes and 59 seconds. That amount of time is about equal to a third of someone’s lifetime. If you were born in a place where proper education in fractions wasn’t necessary, that’s only two-thirds left to live. Sadly enough, quite a few people die in their sleep, even more die before hitting a prime old age. Sleep is a mercenary who lures you in by the sweet coos of fatigue, of your bones aching and your muscles aching and the appeal of a comfy mattress with a warm comforter and cool pillowcase. It lures you in with the bribery of lovely dreams and shutting down. It loses its cool and leaves the imprints of horrid nightmares in your head. The work of psychiatrists having to prescribe you different methods, just so you can be lured back into its evil clutches.
That isn’t to say that I, myself, don’t fraternize with the enemy. The answer to that is simple: I sleep when I need to and wake up once I’m done - Simple as that. There need not be any reason to go to bed very early or to sleep in. And thank God that I didn’t because if I knew that my doorbell would be ringing like mad at about ten in the morning, and I happened to be asleep, such a horrible outcome would bestow itself upon me, for sure. The time I got up this great morning was an exception to my usual early rising: a measly five in the morning. I had to check up on my blogs and upload a new video to YouTube. A video that I had spent all night before the prom doing. It wasn’t a crazy special effects video, just one of my sarcastic little blogs that people seemed to enjoy. I constantly got comments that were very difficult to read and when I could read them, they were either mad at me for insulting ‘the best singer in the world’ or telling me I was adorable and they were coming to rape me. Oh how I really hope they were kidding. I remember, just the other day, I got a message from a girl asking about my views on polygamy. I did not respond, of course. Who focuses their time on thinking about their views on multi-person marriages? Another reason why I had gotten up at five was because one of my friends in England was going to be Skype-calling me and I needed to answer. All in all, it was a pretty busy morning to lead up to the day that was my Grad. For this occasion, my parents didn’t go to work and, instead, stayed home or went out shopping. Both were early risers naturally, so I didn’t disturb them with my routines.
Fast-forwarding like I do when I find commercials at the beginning of the Star Wars films I record every week on the PVR, at around ten in the morning, I just so happened to be trying to update the memory in that old desktop. Oh, wait, no. That was at eight, my mistake. At ten, I was sitting in the living room upstairs, clad in my pin-striped pyjamas and tee, watching old episodes of cartoons I’d seen a million times before but never lost any amusement in. Just when Barbara (a.k.a., Batgirl) was explaining the end of Robin’s journey with Bruce Wayne, the cacophony that was a doorbell ringing three times every second – about as long as it took for the button to release itself and pop back up under the culprit’s fingers – with a groan, I waited a little bit, just so I could try and catch the final words, but the volume was drowned out by that annoying, ‘ding-dong!’ and I couldn’t wait any longer. I could already hear the moving about of my parents on the main floor. About five steps down, the ringing stopped and either the person gave up and left or my parents had already welcomed them in.
» NARRATIVE INITIATION «
The Carson couple sat together in the kitchen in their daywear and discussed the day over their sips of coffee. With every flyer they put down, belonging to either Wal-Mart, Zellers, Food Basics, Loblaws or some other store, they would mention their plans of the day: Mrs. Carson had to pick up a couple of little gifts for each of his son’s teachers and Mr. Carson had to drive down to Costco and pick up a couple of bags of milk and some eggs for a cake he would be baking. They would leave as soon as they finished looking through the flyers. Just as the male was licking his finger to turn a page in the Best Buy flyer, the doorbell started to ring like it had Parkinson’s disease. Mister Carson opened his mouth to say something, but his wife placed a hand on his shoulder and offered to get it, which she did. As soon as the door opened, she saw the red-headed girl who was a close friend of her son’s. She had her finger still on the buzzer, obviously expecting her friend to have come to the door later. ”Good morning, Jaydee!” her voice was singsong as she held the door open for the young girl to come in. ”Ready to graduate?” She laughed lightly as she closed the door behind the girl. ”Mitchel! Jaydee’s here!” she called up the stairs as she swept into the kitchen, the sound of a boy’s sardonic drawl following after her. ”Really, mom? I really couldn’t tell by the erratic doorbell-ringing or the sound of a cat dying in the distance, due to her very presence.” That was the usual response one would hear from a dork like Mitchel and the eighteen-year-old girl was probably very used to hearing that. As soon as he came down to the foyer where she lingered like she always did when she longed to depress and annoy him in ways that he did not believe to be humanly possible, prior to, he glared at her like Mister Wilson would Dennis the Menace. ”It is so hard for anyone to deal with you, you know? The hypothetical theory in itself is a method used to cut diamonds.”
TUESDAY, JUNE 26, 2OO9 at 1O:46AM
jaydee lydia ryerson v.s. sliced bread and morphine
To every cloud, there is a silver lining, yes. In my eyes, I see the opposite: every positive has a negative. You could win the lottery, but it would only make you greedy and prejudiced. You could donate money to a charity of your choice, but later, you’ll get fired from your job and realize you're bankrupt. You could adapt to the cold, but that wouldn’t prevent you from catching a cold. You could find the end of the rainbow, but you most certainly wouldn’t find a pot of gold. My positive: befriending someone so unlikely as Jaydee Lydia Ryerson and actually being something other than the sarcastic nerd who isn’t even friends with the nerds. My negative: having to put up with this girl every single day. To most guys at the school, she’s the greatest thing since sliced bread, she’s just that awesome. She’s the kind of girl who would tell you something and anything out of her mouth was instant gold. She was funny, pretty, talented, witty and ... just plain rad. However, she has just about the same properties as morphine: unrealistic how amazing it was, but it would still become so addictive, should you be kept in contact with it too long. Then again, I think back to those times when I’d eat lunch in a secluded area outside because I couldn’t be bothered to make any friends. I remember the times I’d been threatened to get my head bashed in so much I wouldn’t be able to speak smart-aleck comments anymore (no matter how medically implausible that sentence had been structured and how half-witted the bluff was). It’s those things that remind me how grateful I was to have someone like Ryerson to call a friend, even if she wouldn’t leave me be for a minute’s peace. There. I said it.
With a weak smile, I gestured for her to follow me into the kitchen where I found a box of Oreos and thrust in her direction – that should keep her occupied – and then turned up the steps, leaving her to option to follow me upstairs or naught. Actually, she didn’t have that option, because I couldn’t really leave her with my parents – my parents were far too social when it came to my age group, I sometimes thought that if they transferred into high school while I was still there, they’d make more friend than I could have in four years’ time. Sprinting back down the steps, I grabbed her around the wrist and hauled her up to my room, where the laptop screen was glowing eerily. I shut on the light and sat myself into the chair, typing in the password to the computer and spinning around the face her while it loaded. ”So, what do you want?” Despite the brashness of my words, I really did want to know if there was a sole purpose to her visit – not that she only visited for that reason, but it would be best to accomplish anything rather than have to guess – or if she just wanted to hang out until Grad. I spotted the chocolaty Starbucks in her hand with a frown. ”You go to Starbucks without picking anything up for me, yet I still let you into my house... How do you do it?” Just about now, I was really craving for an iced drink with coffee, but I wasn’t going to make her walk with me all the way back there, and I didn’t really want to go it alone; meeting Jaydee literally has been a life-changing factor.
It's definitely not bliss.
It's been so long since I've actually written anything. I looked back and read something I wrote a while ago, the one I put here in the blog, and it reminded me of how quickly I could crank out so many words, paragraphs and witty bits. I used to conquer at least three thousand words in a single weekend; writing in the perspective of a different character in a different situation every single time - it was enough to make me consider having MPD.
So now I go back to the threads that I've left off - sacrificing such for high school - and find graveyards. I can practically smell the mold and feel the dust of everything. The most recent post in any of them was dated to the first of November, an attempt at reviving.
Even with this blog - I hardly put in meaningful posts these days, if anything at all. I've long forgotten the old template I'd had for my font size, colour and style. I'll definitely stick with this current one for a while, however.
Without further rant and spiel, I suppose I'll do what any good blogger would do: write about my day.
- I'm going to head to an art shop today and pick up materials to create some delicate pieces of something to give for Christmas.
- I'll probably ask a pet shop if I can volunteer.
- Perhaps I'll stop by Wal-Mart and pick up a bulk of candy canes.
- I've got to type up a CPT for health.
- I'll put up a post I really liked writing in here, to follow this.
xx
eekamay
p.s., I started this little thing on my phone where I used the notepad to write a sentence describing my day, vaguely. I'll share that in a moment.
Good golly, Miss Dollie, I've got work to do.
this layout and the icon was made by chapstick with colors from colourlovers. do not remove/alter the credits section in any way, thank you.
ericamay, 25may1995, single forever, devoted to peter pan
charlieissocoollike, doctor who, peter pan, you me at six, i see stars, andy oliver, devin oliver, ribbons, bows, drummers, bright colours, black and white contrast, people who smile a lot, laughing, beats, rhythms, being good at something, fireworks, writing, sketching, details, internet, photoshop, graphic design, coding, paint, crayons, paper, plain goldfish, the colours green and blue, prince phillip, princess aurora, tinkerbell, neverland, disneyland, disneyworld, crush the turtle, chemistry, storybook romance, arctic monkeys, britain, irish accents, every accent, scottish boys, skinny boys, pale boys, collarbones, freckles, gingers, photobooths, madina lake, billy idol, chocolate chip cookies, toffee, tiny marshmallows, hot cocoa, good memories, bloodrushes, laughing, singers, musicians, good headphones, punching the backs of car seats while listening to hardcore music in parking lots, hugs, kisses, winter, sweaters, hoodies, scarves, snowflakes, eyelashes, pretty eyes, dark hair, blonde hair, straight hair, wavy hair, offensive humours, people who don't take things seriously, heated debates, awkward moments, having private concerts home alone, red pandas, sharks, weasels, minxes, puppydogs, kittycats, post-it notes, caring reminders, strawberries, raspberries, william beckett, matt smith, karen gillan, david tennant, alex turner, joe brooks, noah and the whale, mumford and sons, los campesinos, french people, foreign languages, magic tricks, illusions, photographs, macros, doodling people i know, doodling people i wish i knew, pens that flow smoothly, shortbread cookies, tapping my feet, high fives, pokemon, laughing so hard i cry, being told people love me, winning, swedish fish, candies, neil patrick harris, nerimon, frezned, danisnotonfire, alexisonfire, billy talent, taking back sunday, john gomez, brian dales, alex pettyfer, logan lerman, tumblr, squareenix, old names, music class, good friends, late-night confessions, hanging out anywhere, eccentricity, spontaneous people, people with good memories, being unforgotten, lyricists, air heads, scissors, kicking, unicorns, rainbows, miss rainicorn, adventure time with finn and jake, flapjack, we came as romans, architects, joy division, two door cinema club, emma watson, george craig, emma watson and george craig together, the hoosiers, old photos, chalk drawing, graffiti, skateboarders, bmx riders, comic fanatics, superheros, guys, candy in tin cases, pastel stars, pointless wishing, sweet dreams, morning messages, text conversations, honey on toast, apple jelly, internet memes, advil, motion city soundtrack, vampire weekend, rolo tomassi, people named connor, people named sebastian, william, james, oliver, owen, eoin, alexander, joshua, andrew, aaron, christopher, jackson, hunter, and the like, the afterlife kids, downloading music, new downloads, video games, rpgs, shooter games, screaming, all forgotten, arcade fire, the asteroids galaxy tour, kick ass, aaron johnson, christopher mintz-plasse, devon werkshire, thick rimmed glasses, flickr, hipsters, cute kids, never growing up, beastie boys, we are the ocean, blink182, chameleon circuit, john green, hank green, paper towns, the perks of being a wallflower, lewis carroll, c.s. lewis, absolute brightness, the chronicles of narnia, lockets, trinkets, mimes, golden pocketwatches, nifty antiquities, halloween, sewing, the click five, parkway drive, cold war kids, obscurities, confessions, bookstores, candy stores, inside jokes, walls of wonder, being awesome, skins, kaya scodelario, luca pasqualino, jack o'connell, nicholas hoult, max hewer, hannah murray,
and a number of other things...
male obsessions of the now.
29.12.09 at 6:22 PM
i feel this is necessary.
- [insert that gorgeous english musician here♥]
- max helyer -- eff, just ymas all together ♥
- alex pettyfer ♥
- charlie mcdonnell ♥
- stephen homesay ♥
- cody longo ♥
- chris evans ♥
- charlie bewley ♥
- logan lerman ♥
- levi beamish ♥
- stephen byrne ♥
- ryan taylor ♥
- brendan hines ♥
- david tennant ♥
- brett clouser ♥ [lol, i don't even watch survivor]
- andrew lee potts ♥
- philip winchester ♥
- nick spencer ♥
- paul griffiths ♥
- alex evans ♥
- phil lester ♥
- hugh laurie ♥
- jamie bell ♥
- adam young ♥
- alex gaskarth ♥
- adam brody ♥
- john ohh ♥
- stephen jerzak ♥
- kelly from teen hearts ♥
omg, alex pettyfer. ♥
at 6:17 PM
does anybody already know
of my obvious obsessions? omg, alex pettyfer -- he's so gorgeous. i swear, i know so much about him -- it comes from the day that i scanned his biography very intently. i could recognize the exact location of that cross tattoo anywhere (: so anyways, NEW MOVIE WITH HIM? and, GUESS WHAT? it's got neil patrick harris in it, too. he's really cute. him + alex pettyfer = [who cares that vannessa hudgens and mary kate olsen are in it, too?]
xx
don't you remember that time?
25.12.09 at 8:12 AM
there was a time
when i'd look forward to Christmas oh-so much. as soon as the snow fell in november (that's right, it used to snow in november) and the advent calendar on neopets was open again in december, i'd be filled with such joy for the season. i grew up in a toronto apartment and all, but we still managed to harbour an actual tree to decorate. i'd count down the twenty-five days with my chocolate calendar and eat the confections with excitement, even if they tasted stale from sitting in cardboard up until that moment. the carols that played in malls and on the radio were enjoyed, even though they were repetitive and corny. when Christmas Eve came, nobody could sleep with butterflies in their tummies. waking at 7'oclock was nothing for us as we'd watch outdated and classic Christmas films until Mom and Dad woke up, or maybe sneak off to the presents to inspect them all before we could be caught. ripping off the corners to get a hint of what was inside. sometimes, the wrapping paper would be the best part, ripping it off whatever was inside. it was, altogether, a great feeling.
fastforward to now.
what happened to it all? it didn't snow until half-way through december and not too many people bought gifts, just for the people they KNEW. everything's so commericalized and everyone complains about what's playing on the radio. kids don't seem to pay any attention to the chocolate calendars anymore. i don't know about you, but i went to sleep easily -- i even FORGOT it was Christmas. the BIRTH OF JESUS CHRIST. church was packed with people, so much so that more people were standing than sitting, but the complaints and looks of impatience were enough to ruin the spirit. i wanted to sleep in. it didn't feel like Christmas, it still doesn't. the whole gift unwrapping session took seven minutes, tops, and all the wrapping paper was thrown in the recycling bin. and now, i'm sitting here, on my laptop with my dad in the same room, doing the exact same. i've got a brother who's never even built a snowman before and i can't help but feel bad. isn't that what we used to do after Christmas morning -- pile up our snowpants and layers of clothing and make snow angels? i read about and think about lonely people, who probably sit alone in their empty homes with the pictures hung up on the walls. or the poor, who sit in shelters, experiencing an ounce of the happiness they should.
oh Christmas, where have you gone?
xx
if this makes you jealous -- i'm sorry
24.12.09 at 6:10 PM
but it's all my secret intention.
kay guys, here's the deal: I'M ACTUALLY GOING TO NARNIA NEXT FEBRUARY.
well, actually, i'm going to disneyland [or world, whichever is in florida.] which has a NARNIA ATTRACTION. i don't think my life could be any more complete. and did i mention this will be 2 WEEKS OFF OF SCHOOL. i mean, i'll get antsy about homework missed and all that jazz, but when i'm on the plane to florida or i'm skippin' downtown with mickey mouse, it really won't flippin' matter to me :D
...and right after the six days of disney, i'm going on a cruise. just thought i'd throw that in, too.
xx
tumbletumbletumble!
23.12.09 at 1:17 PM
this is madness.
i can't believe i'm actually going to admit this but i have started using a tumblr and -- golly darnit -- i'm well addicted. i've posted eight things between last night and now and i've actually got it OPEN IN A TAB, which isn't all that impressive since i have about a million tabs open at a time. nevertheless, this tumblr can be found on my opening page on in a link right here.
i hate to admit it, but you're starting to feel like a drug.
19.12.09 at 7:57 AM
i don't know how it's possible, really.
Adorable? Sure. My type? Wouldn't know - haven't found it yet. But one thing's pretty definite - I can't help but smile at the thought of you. Honestly, it's weird and I'll probably look back on this and think to myself "wow, old habits die hard, huh?" but for now I guess I'll just see what happens. I'm not expecting a miracle or anything really - no matter the irony, you're still a constant reminder of the past. I'm writing this for lack of anything better to write about, even though I'm sure this is going to end up becoming a big deal. Not on the web, no, but in my restless, schizotypal-almost mind. For now, we'll just call it a crush because, by definition, it fits; it's just a sudden, strong - often short lived - romantic attraction.
Maybe I'm just in it for the challenge.
xx
scientists couldn't fix this mess.
9.12.09 at 4:10 PM
Despite the whiny title,
you don't have to worry; I'm not going to complain about anything, ahaha. In fact, my life is pretty pleasant. Well, in moderation, that is. I mean, yes, there are chips and potholes along the road, but if you consider it, I haven't got it too bad.
First snow of the year (as in, snow that provoked snowball fights) and I realized that I really don't like how grass pokes through the snow. It was like the bloody blades of grass just cracked through my dreams and shattered my hopes.
I'll write more when I have something to say.
xx
oh my,
6.12.09 at 9:42 AM
I had to delete
most of my older posts because of some glitch in the coding. As unhappy as that may have made me, I can say I don't mind much at all. Anyways, here is that post I'd been meaning to put up. Maybe you'd like to read it? - I'd value that (: There are bugs here and there - tiny little typos - so just don't mind them. Thank you (:
xxxxxxxxxxxxx
TUESDAY, JUNE 26, 2OO9
the epic battle between myself and sleep
189.73665962. 36,000, when simplified. For those of you easily overwhelmed with large values collected in the numeral form, that’s thirty-six-thousand. But the question in tow was: What is so significant about this number? It is a large number and could very well describe a number of irrelevant things – however, since you do not know the topic I am about to unfold, a matter of irrelevance is nowhere in your authority to judge – but in this particular context, it is the number that describes the amount of seconds a person wastes of their lives, soaking themselves up in spontaneous messages that the brain portrays. And what were these messages? Dreams, that is what they are. You may argue with me that dreaming is not a waste of time, but think of it this way: The average, healthy human being will live to be eighty, as so described by recent scientific speculation (of course it very well depends on which country’s lifespan you are focusing on, for they all differ based on their value of life; disease, fresh water, material qualities, etc.) which just so happens to be 6, 912, 000 seconds of life. That’s right, almost seven million. Despite that large number of seconds, 2,880, 000 seconds of the average lifetime will be spent asleep. Ideally, that’s 33 years, 121 days, 15 hours, 59 minutes and 59 seconds. That amount of time is about equal to a third of someone’s lifetime. If you were born in a place where proper education in fractions wasn’t necessary, that’s only two-thirds left to live. Sadly enough, quite a few people die in their sleep, even more die before hitting a prime old age. Sleep is a mercenary who lures you in by the sweet coos of fatigue, of your bones aching and your muscles aching and the appeal of a comfy mattress with a warm comforter and cool pillowcase. It lures you in with the bribery of lovely dreams and shutting down. It loses its cool and leaves the imprints of horrid nightmares in your head. The work of psychiatrists having to prescribe you different methods, just so you can be lured back into its evil clutches.
That isn’t to say that I, myself, don’t fraternize with the enemy. The answer to that is simple: I sleep when I need to and wake up once I’m done - Simple as that. There need not be any reason to go to bed very early or to sleep in. And thank God that I didn’t because if I knew that my doorbell would be ringing like mad at about ten in the morning, and I happened to be asleep, such a horrible outcome would bestow itself upon me, for sure. The time I got up this great morning was an exception to my usual early rising: a measly five in the morning. I had to check up on my blogs and upload a new video to YouTube. A video that I had spent all night before the prom doing. It wasn’t a crazy special effects video, just one of my sarcastic little blogs that people seemed to enjoy. I constantly got comments that were very difficult to read and when I could read them, they were either mad at me for insulting ‘the best singer in the world’ or telling me I was adorable and they were coming to rape me. Oh how I really hope they were kidding. I remember, just the other day, I got a message from a girl asking about my views on polygamy. I did not respond, of course. Who focuses their time on thinking about their views on multi-person marriages? Another reason why I had gotten up at five was because one of my friends in England was going to be Skype-calling me and I needed to answer. All in all, it was a pretty busy morning to lead up to the day that was my Grad. For this occasion, my parents didn’t go to work and, instead, stayed home or went out shopping. Both were early risers naturally, so I didn’t disturb them with my routines.
Fast-forwarding like I do when I find commercials at the beginning of the Star Wars films I record every week on the PVR, at around ten in the morning, I just so happened to be trying to update the memory in that old desktop. Oh, wait, no. That was at eight, my mistake. At ten, I was sitting in the living room upstairs, clad in my pin-striped pyjamas and tee, watching old episodes of cartoons I’d seen a million times before but never lost any amusement in. Just when Barbara (a.k.a., Batgirl) was explaining the end of Robin’s journey with Bruce Wayne, the cacophony that was a doorbell ringing three times every second – about as long as it took for the button to release itself and pop back up under the culprit’s fingers – with a groan, I waited a little bit, just so I could try and catch the final words, but the volume was drowned out by that annoying, ‘ding-dong!’ and I couldn’t wait any longer. I could already hear the moving about of my parents on the main floor. About five steps down, the ringing stopped and either the person gave up and left or my parents had already welcomed them in.
» NARRATIVE INITIATION «
The Carson couple sat together in the kitchen in their daywear and discussed the day over their sips of coffee. With every flyer they put down, belonging to either Wal-Mart, Zellers, Food Basics, Loblaws or some other store, they would mention their plans of the day: Mrs. Carson had to pick up a couple of little gifts for each of his son’s teachers and Mr. Carson had to drive down to Costco and pick up a couple of bags of milk and some eggs for a cake he would be baking. They would leave as soon as they finished looking through the flyers. Just as the male was licking his finger to turn a page in the Best Buy flyer, the doorbell started to ring like it had Parkinson’s disease. Mister Carson opened his mouth to say something, but his wife placed a hand on his shoulder and offered to get it, which she did. As soon as the door opened, she saw the red-headed girl who was a close friend of her son’s. She had her finger still on the buzzer, obviously expecting her friend to have come to the door later. ”Good morning, Jaydee!” her voice was singsong as she held the door open for the young girl to come in. ”Ready to graduate?” She laughed lightly as she closed the door behind the girl. ”Mitchel! Jaydee’s here!” she called up the stairs as she swept into the kitchen, the sound of a boy’s sardonic drawl following after her. ”Really, mom? I really couldn’t tell by the erratic doorbell-ringing or the sound of a cat dying in the distance, due to her very presence.” That was the usual response one would hear from a dork like Mitchel and the eighteen-year-old girl was probably very used to hearing that. As soon as he came down to the foyer where she lingered like she always did when she longed to depress and annoy him in ways that he did not believe to be humanly possible, prior to, he glared at her like Mister Wilson would Dennis the Menace. ”It is so hard for anyone to deal with you, you know? The hypothetical theory in itself is a method used to cut diamonds.”
TUESDAY, JUNE 26, 2OO9 at 1O:46AM
jaydee lydia ryerson v.s. sliced bread and morphine
To every cloud, there is a silver lining, yes. In my eyes, I see the opposite: every positive has a negative. You could win the lottery, but it would only make you greedy and prejudiced. You could donate money to a charity of your choice, but later, you’ll get fired from your job and realize you're bankrupt. You could adapt to the cold, but that wouldn’t prevent you from catching a cold. You could find the end of the rainbow, but you most certainly wouldn’t find a pot of gold. My positive: befriending someone so unlikely as Jaydee Lydia Ryerson and actually being something other than the sarcastic nerd who isn’t even friends with the nerds. My negative: having to put up with this girl every single day. To most guys at the school, she’s the greatest thing since sliced bread, she’s just that awesome. She’s the kind of girl who would tell you something and anything out of her mouth was instant gold. She was funny, pretty, talented, witty and ... just plain rad. However, she has just about the same properties as morphine: unrealistic how amazing it was, but it would still become so addictive, should you be kept in contact with it too long. Then again, I think back to those times when I’d eat lunch in a secluded area outside because I couldn’t be bothered to make any friends. I remember the times I’d been threatened to get my head bashed in so much I wouldn’t be able to speak smart-aleck comments anymore (no matter how medically implausible that sentence had been structured and how half-witted the bluff was). It’s those things that remind me how grateful I was to have someone like Ryerson to call a friend, even if she wouldn’t leave me be for a minute’s peace. There. I said it.
With a weak smile, I gestured for her to follow me into the kitchen where I found a box of Oreos and thrust in her direction – that should keep her occupied – and then turned up the steps, leaving her to option to follow me upstairs or naught. Actually, she didn’t have that option, because I couldn’t really leave her with my parents – my parents were far too social when it came to my age group, I sometimes thought that if they transferred into high school while I was still there, they’d make more friend than I could have in four years’ time. Sprinting back down the steps, I grabbed her around the wrist and hauled her up to my room, where the laptop screen was glowing eerily. I shut on the light and sat myself into the chair, typing in the password to the computer and spinning around the face her while it loaded. ”So, what do you want?” Despite the brashness of my words, I really did want to know if there was a sole purpose to her visit – not that she only visited for that reason, but it would be best to accomplish anything rather than have to guess – or if she just wanted to hang out until Grad. I spotted the chocolaty Starbucks in her hand with a frown. ”You go to Starbucks without picking anything up for me, yet I still let you into my house... How do you do it?” Just about now, I was really craving for an iced drink with coffee, but I wasn’t going to make her walk with me all the way back there, and I didn’t really want to go it alone; meeting Jaydee literally has been a life-changing factor.
negligence
at 8:41 AM
It's definitely not bliss.
It's been so long since I've actually written anything. I looked back and read something I wrote a while ago, the one I put here in the blog, and it reminded me of how quickly I could crank out so many words, paragraphs and witty bits. I used to conquer at least three thousand words in a single weekend; writing in the perspective of a different character in a different situation every single time - it was enough to make me consider having MPD.
So now I go back to the threads that I've left off - sacrificing such for high school - and find graveyards. I can practically smell the mold and feel the dust of everything. The most recent post in any of them was dated to the first of November, an attempt at reviving.
Even with this blog - I hardly put in meaningful posts these days, if anything at all. I've long forgotten the old template I'd had for my font size, colour and style. I'll definitely stick with this current one for a while, however.
Without further rant and spiel, I suppose I'll do what any good blogger would do: write about my day.
- I'm going to head to an art shop today and pick up materials to create some delicate pieces of something to give for Christmas.
- I'll probably ask a pet shop if I can volunteer.
- Perhaps I'll stop by Wal-Mart and pick up a bulk of candy canes.
- I've got to type up a CPT for health.
- I'll put up a post I really liked writing in here, to follow this.
xx
eekamay
p.s., I started this little thing on my phone where I used the notepad to write a sentence describing my day, vaguely. I'll share that in a moment.
Good golly, Miss Dollie, I've got work to do.
this layout and the icon was made by chapstick with colors from colourlovers. do not remove/alter the credits section in any way, thank you.