You're all I require

I can't fail to appreciate everything about them. Unexpected visitation or voluntary accompaniment delivers the warmth necessary for my fire to flourish. You needn't step out of your comfort zone to make me happy, all you need to do is be comfortable around me. I'm not preoccupied about whether you aren't much of a conversationalist, or if you're too tired to keep me entertained. You're all I'll ever need to be happy. You: tired, angst, frustrated, procrastinator, just you. All you are is all I require. Let yourself go, be as confident as you are able, and let me introduce you to my philosophy.

No matter what you do in life, strive for happiness. Do whatever it takes to attain it. There will be times when happiness won't accompany you, but when that happens please don't hesitate to allow me to take happiness' stead. Sometimes I won't be able to fill the void and you will have to seek solace from yourself. But whatever happens, strive for contentment in the end.

You've been my rock. I care for you very, very much. I hope I make you at least a modicum as happy as you have made me. When the time comes that we won't know each other well anymore, I will remember you. The evidence of your existence in my life is so secure that nothing can vanquish it. I will remember you for all that you were to me, and that was everything. I'll know you for the steadfast companion you've been, and the laughter you invoked and will continue to through reminiscence.

I felt terrible tonight, but thinking about you guys completely changed my mood around. I can't say it enough but thank you, thank you, thank you for being my friend.

I know, a third post in a row, LAME but this HAD to be done. I'm BACK. I don't give a damn how I do on my exam tomorrow... at least for tonight. For those of you who've known me for a while, I pretty much lost inspiration for art altogether the last year and have hardly produced something I've been satisfied with for a long, long time. It came back. ITCAMEBACK. I want to kiss something really passionately right now. I'm so fucking happy. I'm sorry, I don't ordinarily swear. I really don't, but I'm just... EEEEEEEE. I'm going to roll in the snow with Gus, tah.



Music of the moment: Figured You Out by Nickleback (I don't give a damn what anyone says, I love this song)

Old Friends

General Gustovski decided to stop by today. Unfortunately, he forgot to pack his warm fuzzies, so I offered him some of my own. The General is warm but needless to say affected by the pink mittens and so embarrassed that he wouldn't keep his eyes open when I photographed him. I'm still happy that he's stopped by though, despite the fact that he is insecure about his masculinity. I don't know how long he'll be staying, he isn't sure either. 'Until someone takes him down a peg or he finds the appropriate time to leave, I suppose. Anyway, he's pretty amiable, so feel free to stop by and introduce yourself.

Cyanide

: any of several compounds (as potassium cyanide) that contain the radical CN having the chemical valence of one, react with and inactivate respiratory enzymes, and are rapidly lethal producing drowsiness, tachycardia, coma, and finally death.

Cyan pepper is in my eyes.
Frivolous intentions become a dark
Layer of masochism enveloping but
Sedate. Impetuous grandeur provides
An air of imperial importance,
You’re confident and attractive
And my humble plights are
Smitten by your egotism.

Altruistic objective slights
Everything abrasive but it fails to
Composite the insensitivity that is
Inside of you – all you are
And all you will ever be to me,
Hypocritical prattle emanates
From that grotesque orifice
You claim to call a voice.

Lie to me; drench me in the
Pathological habits that you
Perpetuate and are so exemplary
At exclaiming at the top of your
Foul voice, cyanide cradled in a vase of
Passion you lack the substance I require.
I am incredulous but you are everything
That I desire to be

...

I hate mondays. I feel like shit.

Exerpt

From Pride and Prejudice:

Mrs Bennet still continued to wonder and repine at his returning no more, and though a day seldom passed in which Elizabeth did not account for it clearly, there seemed little chance of her ever considering it with less perplexity. Her daughter endeavoured to convince her of what she did not believe herself, that his attentions to Jane had been merely the effect of a common and transient liking, which ceased when he saw her no more; but though the probability of the statement was admitted at the time, she had the same story to repeat every day. Mrs Bennet's best comfort was, that Mr Bingley must be down again in the summer.
Mr Bennet treated the matter differently. 'So, Lizzy,' said he one day, 'your sister is crossed in love I find. I congratulate her. Next to being married, a girl likes to be crossed in love a little now and then. It is something to think of, and gives her a sort of distinction among her companions. When is it your turn to come? You will hardly bear to be long outdone by Jane. Now is your time. Here are officers enough at Meryton to disappoint all the young ladies in the country. Let Wickham be your man. He is a pleasant fellow, and would jilt you creditably.'
'Thank you, sir, but a less agreeable man would satisfy me. We must not all expect Jane's good fortune.'
'True,' said Mr Bennet, 'but it is a comfort to think that, whatever of that kind may befall you, you have an affectionate mother who will always make the most of it.'

I love Mr Bennet. He's so wry and sarcastic. I've adopted him as my foster father.

Woosh

Now to go brew a shwack of coffee and hype myself up on caffeine to paint all afternoon. G'day.

Photography

This has inspired me over the past week or so to take more photos than I generally do, even though I've been into it for... several years? I'm addicted.





More later.

Cross country

He was the placebo. She was the disease. They worked together like a mutation to a virus, multiply... multiply - ensure the placebo doesn't become immune, absence pulls her far but she confuses it for fondness. Experience the pleasure of sour contentment. Overripe oranges too sweet to be eaten decay with time. Beloved envy, envelope them; stretch them, tear them, pull them lovingly apart. Spite, drama, infuriation, let it populate their senses. Drown them in the passion.

You're too sweet for her, too ripe, too committal. She wants to be diseased. She desires to decay. Would you leave her so that she would contentedly die alone, or would you rather stay to provide her life, bombarding her with spry displeasure? Dismount, knight. Go your merry way. Find another to pacify with your 'genteel' behavior.

"Are we goin' cross-country?"
"Fo sho."
"Aw, geez."

Security by individuality

Impertinent but important, he isn't sure who he would be without her. Ignorant but enthusiastic, she is involved with him and couldn't be tempted to falter. They were enrapt with each other. Essentially, everything else wasted away. The relationships they once had with their family and friends dissolved. They had no one else to rely on; they thought they didn't need anyone else. Their love was strong enough to keep them together forever. Then they had a fight. Over time it escalated and nothing could be done to mend the threads, so they departed from each other.

When they returned to what semblance of life they left behind they realized just how alone they were when they were together.

From an outsider's perspective, I've come to know relationships intimately. I've seen them develop and grow among my friends and noticed that the ones which seem most stable and secure are inevitably the ones that come to bitter ends and leave not only the couple damaged, but everyone around them as well. Maintaining all your other relationships while dating someone is more important than most people know. We're fickle. We change with time. So we can't expect a singular person to be our only means of support.

Clint Eastwood

New layout. It's still in the process, but the llama was getting boring. I'll delete this post later because it's inane and useless, but if you have and comments or constructive criticism, feel absolutely free to reply with them.

Chameleon

Every effort was futile. The tree stood tall and stiff, a paltry few leaves rattled when the wind whipped through its recesses... but it was never enough. Each leaf was a reminder of how life had come and left. There was such an impulse to rake my nails across the bark and pull the leaves from their seemingly permanent stronghold. The withered evidence had to be eliminated. It had to be allowed the option to decompose and support new life. But instead it only clattered together like a legion of brittle bones, expressing intolerable woe. They had to be vanquished, silenced; they needed to be thrust aside and shown that their reign was over.

But instead I stood and watched, apathetic as any stone statue, impenetrable as the greatest, tallest tower of subconscious ever encountered. There are times I worry, anticipate that every motive I've possessed over the past year will only bury me deeper in this grave. I'm being buried alive, but there's no bell for me to ring. The coffin is nailed tight; I'm no Black Mamba, how am supposed to dig myself out of my own grave? Who will care that I'm dying if no one knows?

It's cold outside but for the second time in my life I couldn't care less. The snow was beautiful, but I didn't notice. Something inside told me to lie down in the snow and go to sleep so when I woke up I'd be in a new reality. Something else told me to keep walking. Apparently my legs obliged to the latter. I don't care about conformity, or whether I'm emo, angst, or just another dumb-ass teenager who doesn't know what the fuck they're talking about. I've grown beyond the point of caring anymore.

The first tear of the year fell from my oblivious eye. My cheek hurt for supporting it. Why did it come? Was I a drama-sick retard even without a swell of alcohol? I can't lie to you. Every smile you see has honesty in it. My eyes don't lie. You see them for longer than seven minutes without being distorted by a smile and you know something is wrong.

Something was wrong.

I went inside and shut the door. I took my shoes off and went upstairs. I stripped to my jamies and got into bed. I tried to be apathetic and it was difficult. The first tear had fallen and the others wanted to follow. But I wouldn't allow them. I conquered. I always obliterate it before anyone can see it ensnare me.

The leaves still clattered together outside. I'd laugh at them tomorrow to distort my eyes. I would show them that guileless youth is still inside of me and that they could not defeat me with their perpetual insensitivity. I'm past the tantrum-years and angry sobs for futile things.

I won't allow myself to be a sober drama queen.