A Collection of Spectacles


I found my old xangas. I used to be really different. I’ve chilled out in many respects, and I’ve cut most of the shitty music out of my life (haha, that was meant as non-pompously as possible). 


Just about the least embarrassing one I could find. 


Tuesday, December 07, 2004


Today, I decided to light candles, which I have never done much on my own for fear that I would probably burn myself, or the house down, or both. But, Jenna taught me how to do it correctly, and I did so this afternoon.

It was perfect. I lit every single candle I had ever collected from the time I was 7 years old, and put some indie music on the radio. Then, I blew some bubbles around the room, and watched as my cat meowed dissaprovingly, as they popped on her back.

And, for quite some time, I was truely happy. Funny how the simple things such as this make you feel good inside. Maybe, people would be a little more happier in this life, if we all enjoyed the little things.

Or, maybe I’ve just been taking too much cough syrup.

Currently Playing
Whatever & Ever Amen
By Ben Folds Five
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                                                                     End Quote.

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I baked cookies (of which Alice B. Tokias would’ve been proud).  

They were awesome, for the most part. It’s definitely something that I’ll look into more often. 

Although its sort of… actually, it’s very silly and almost absurd, the completion of such a task is gratifying because it brings one closer to an identifiable American sub-culture. To some extent, everyone wants to find their niche, even if it’s among those who don’t seem to fit in anywhere. 

Daily Tasks are Mundane, At Best: Did I mention how sick I am of being here? The atmosphere is suffocating. 

I will…

-Talk about brighter things more often. I’m begining to complain quite a bit. 

– Devote more time to this blog, if possible. 

I’ve almost reached my 100th post! Exciting.

Edit: I spoke with my aunt yesterday. Nothing that’s happened is relevant, only the here and now. Talking made me realize how much I’ve missed her. 

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The Defense Mechanism that I Abuse


The Broken Apparatus that I Continuously Repair: Somehow I’ve developed a habit of daydreaming on purpose.  I’ve honed the technique to the point that I can utilize it to engage in conversation, via this shell of a body, while simultaneously traveling elsewhere in my mind. The body’s experiences are usually lackluster at best, while the mind lives a more exhilarating existence. I’ve come to enjoy these fathomed trips to paradisiacal nowheres more than anything I’ve experienced thus far. Needless to say, something’s not right. What that is exactly, remains to be seen. 

I was in a store one day and a mom slapped her kid across his cheek. I don’t remember what he did to “deserve” it. I only remember the brief exchange  after:

‘Why’d you hit me?’

‘Cause I’m your mom. If I don’t hit you, who else’s gonna?’

In other news: I don’t think I’ll entertain any fancies as of now. Things happen best if they are allowed to happen.

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Distorted views I currently hold that keep me from advancing: Love is not a regenerative entity. I struggle to find the power to love, fall out of love, say I once loved but don’t anymore, and then start again. The emotion is more like a pie (the only comparison I can think of, sorry) of sorts. I’m giving away whole pieces, parts of myself. Dealing in non-refundable transactions.  

When I don’t have anyone in particular in mind, and I lack a flesh and blood being that I can dress in amorous apparel, I tend to imagine phantom figures. I take frequent trips, mental excursions, upon which I throughly inspect the unmistakably flawed, but undeniably remarkable, specimen. There’s a possibility that this thought, the one that I began to believe only existed in the abstract,  could once again take a tangible form.* How I hope this “maybe” comes to fruition. I think I’ve spent too long punishing myself for not getting things right . 

*If it’s nothing…I mean, if it nothing comes of it, then I won’t mention it again.

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