Photography
Hey people.. I'm really sick right now, so I figure, what more fun thing to do when your sick than to post pictures on your blog? But actually it's more because Allie and I had a "Photoshoot" yesterday at my house.. so you know, inspiration and what-not. Actually before I had a camera, it hadn't occured to me how incredibly fun it is to take pictures.. and incredibly unrewarding if you're photographing yourself. We were going for four themes like Quadrophenia.. the thing is that we're quadrophenics.. we're not schizo we're quadro.





Chet... pimped out
Allie thought it would look cool if he was grasping the bar... ::no comment::

Chet in my room.

Chet'n'Allie.. pimped out
















By this point, Chet was getting annoying and he wasn't giving my hat back.



Aarushi le Bohémien

Let's just ignore the fact that I look gross.

As you can see, I'm starting to get a little pissed off..

Me getting mad at Allie for being annoying.

Don't you love my shoes...?
...and my skirt?

Allie le modèle















RocknRoll Suicide...

there's me... bein emo.

Right now I'm being musical...
See... this is why I need lessons.


i think i sneezed


just take a look at how incredibly huge my nose looks.


Yeah me being a straight-A student. I never dress like this.

Reading:
Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince!!!!!!!!!!

And I can't put it down. It's the raunchiest installment yet.... But I CAN'T GIVE ANYTHING AWAY....
see u when i'm finished. am currently on p. 345.

Am currently listening to:
Dark Side of the Moon
Pink Floyd
Capitol Records




I am listening to this amazing song at the moment of the album mentioned above. If you haven't heard of it, Dark Side of the Moon, is the legendary must-have Pink Floyd album that still takes the mind and mood of any real music enthusiast by storm. I mean how genius is it to make a slow tempo, mainly instrumental album with long songs? Incredibly genius, because every moment of this album feels so expertly crafted.
So anyway, the two tracks that are singing my heart out at the moment are Time and Money. That is they are my situational heart singers. The other songs identify with me on an emotional level as well.

Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day, you fritter and waste the hours in an off hand way.
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your hometown, waiting for someone or something to show you the way.
Tired of lying in the sunshine, staying home to watch the rain. You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today.
And then one day, you find ten years have got behind you.
No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun.

Time, at this moment, is expressing the fact that I'm wasting mine away. That before long it will all have run out and that I'm gonna need it for all the goals I have set. The time to act is now. Cuz my schedule's pretty empty at the moment. See the thing is, since my drama camp is over, I need to think of a way to fill my time. That's easy. Music. Write some songs. Wait, you can't write any of the songs you want without a guitar. Okay then, get some of those guitar lessons, practice and read articles. Hone your craft, listen to as much music as possible. But then there's this thing. I have no resources. I have no money. Which is where the song, Money, comes in.

Money, get away
Get a good job with more pay and you're OK
Money. It's a gas.
Grab that cash with both hands and make a stash.

What's that? Oh yeah. To get money, you need a job, since your parents aren't handing it out much anymore. We're trying to save money for the new house. So none of this unneccessary bullshit like music. And not to mention, saving for college. Because I'm not sticking my parents with that bill. And I did just spend my last ten bucks at the movies... I was so hungry that I needed some pretzels. Damn.
So naturally, I'm filling out applications. But it's HARD. I mean, let's just think, teenage girl, willing to work hard and for many hours for the bright light that is minimum wage. You'd jump at that opportunity, huh? I mean, I'm an artist, a bohemian, a rocker, a dramaqueen, whatever. I don't ask for much. I'm a good, honest, hardworking, smart, friendly, cute person. I could sell coffee. I could ask people what kind of cheese they want on their noodles? Open up a bottle of Izze...
But no, wait am I old enough? Come on. I'm fourteen. Can't you see mature young adult? I'm worldly. I've been to India and England and France (though I was a baby at that time). I have a lot of knowledge or at least a little of all of the artists they play at Starbucks. Oh, oh, ask me how many congresspersons there are. Ask me what bicameral means. I know lots of dirty jokes!

References? Oh come on, I get straight As. I won the spelling bee. What more do you need to know?
Previous Work Experience? I'm a great babysitter. I have a license. Plus I can do CPR, heimlich too, and on babies.
Skills?
I know all the words to Bohemian Rhapsody, all the lyrics to Revolver, my brain is overflowing with pop culture references, I have an extensive vocabulary. I can almost speak fluently in four languages plus Pig Latin, I have good people skills, I make good first impressions (it's actually second impressions I worry about), I'm a good memorizer, I can lick ice cream off my chin, I have great handwriting...

The lunatic is in the hall. The lunatics are in my hall. The paper holds their folded faces to the floor and every day the paper boy brings more.
And if the dam breaks open many years too soon and if there is no room upon the hill and if your head explodes with dark forbodings too, I'll see you on the dark side of the moon.

Thinking about this for too long is leaving a sour taste in my mouth. Probably owing to some phlegm or something. Eww. Sorry. I can feel my inner frustrations brimming until I guess I'll burn out and have to do something. I find it so difficult to believe that I actually have an unbelievable amount of self control. If I had been born with less, I may have been able to live life more peaceably. I want to let go so badly.

So what's going to fill my day tomorrow...

--> I'm going to listen to every album in my collection and pick out the ones that are going to Halfprice books.
--> I'm going to do something healthy and get out of the house in the process.
--> Pick out books that should go to halfprice books as well.
--> Visualize the reality that I want and make small but real changes to my lifestyle in order to get to that reality and dispose of this forboding reality.
--> Write on this blog.
--> Clean the clutter on the hard drive.
--> Find some way to get iPod to stop fucking up.
--> Make some contact with the outside, corporate, public world.
--> Call one of those friends that you haven't talked to in weeks. Because they said they'd hang with you over the summer, and you are going to make them feel like they won't be able to live without you.
--> Listen to all those songs that you clearly don't listen to enough. Pretend the Who, Queen and the Strokes don't exist for at least a day.
--> Call a relative.
--> Practice your art.

Photos from my Life

A few weeks ago, I went shopping with my friends, Allie and Cassie on State Street.

Me in a lovely bohemian beret, at Ragstock, finally my look reflects my emotional state. Too bad I didn't buy it.

Allie in this hat that she really liked. You can probably see Cassie in the side of it.


There's Allie again. Isn't she hot?


Hey! Look it's Cassie the lone ranger.

There's me looking like the sad little girl that I am.

Allie in a Charlie Chaplin hat at the hat store.

The interior of the hat store.

Me in a Summer hat. Kind of gets you in the mood, huh?

I am going to spend some time feeling sorry for myself. Because I am missing the Weezer/Pixies concert right now. Puh... it's a reunion concert! And I've been talking about it all year.

Am consoling myself with the white stripes. Oh and by the way i met zach braff and rachel bilson.

Goals for the Summer
-make myself the most cool person in the world so that people will like me at memorial.
-get job. Any job.
-as soon as CTM's over, signup for guitar lessons
Finish this later.

Adam Brody is simply amazing. I mean, he's funny, he's got a great personality, he's in a band, he likes good music, including the Pixies, Bright Eyes, Death Cab for Cutie, etc, he's got great looks, pretty hair, he's clever, he was on Gilmore Girls, in which he was in a band and dating the only girl on TV who has good musical taste, he's really really cute when he's kissing anyone. And he looks amazing sad. And he's jewish. I don't know how that factors in, but trust me there's a track. And he has great sideburns. But this makes him possibly the most dateable person in the world. If you didn't get what I was getting at is that he's a Democrat. He showed up FOR Kerry. Even though, that was probably evident through his musical taste. But anyway, he's so awesome. And he's the kind of guy who melts. And if you don't get that, that's okay.

I seriously think I may be hypomanic. This first occurred to me when my father was discussing his overstimulus and the fact that he is so energetic, sometimes, even in the middle of the night is unable to sleep, though he's very tired. And it registered that I have these exact symptoms. I try and cope by using coffee. He also said that he's always thinking, just as I do, my brain never winds down.
Here is the medical dictionary's definition:

Hypomania: A condition similar to mania but less severe. The symptoms are similar with elevated mood, increased activity, decreased need for sleep, grandiosity, racing thoughts, and the like. However, hypomanic episodes differ in that they do not cause significant distress or impair one's work, family, or social life in an obvious way while manic episodes do.
Hypomanic people tend to be unusually cheerful, have more than ample energy, and need little sleep. Hypomania is a pleasurable state. It may confer a heightened sense of creativity and power. However, hypomania can subtly impair a person's judgment. Too much confidence can conceal the consequences of decisions.

It's funny, but I think sometimes forces of nature make a huge difference. Today, I was in an awful mood as I was walking home. I'd just had a fight with two of my friends. Both: involved me being shouted at, loudly. and Both: compelled me to take a minute in the hallway with a friend. Did I mention it's my birthday? well not exactly my birthday. but a day leading up to it. And in my mind, you're birthday sits dead center on a week and there is a buffer around it where everyone has to at least hold their tongue around you.

It's silly. But it's true. And I felt hurt, and sad and I didn't know what to do, because I don't think it was justified in the situations I was placed in for someone to be angry with me at all. I know it's stupid and silly and seems biased but I didn't see the point. My friend, okay, said that my diary wouldn't have an effect on someone if it were published and it wouldn't hold lessons. And I don't know, but I was hurt. And I have been, by this person before, been hurt in such a way. I mean, I know it's not meant to hurt anything, but it feels like a put-down. I mean, it's not like I think that I'm like, the best writer in the world or the smartest or even the most dramatic. But I at least think that it might affect someone in someway. That maybe someway, someone could be inspired by it. I mean, it's only what I always wished. That maybe my plight could lighten someone elses, in some way at least. I would hope that's what I'm doing here. But I have no way of knowing what others feel when they read this. I mean, I'm not clairvoyant, but I don't know, I wish to believe that people read this and are enlightened, or impressed or at least entertained.

So I told her that I didn't wish to speak to her any more. And this of course makes her very angry, because she feels as if I'm taking her words too personally. What an effect words have. BECAUSE IT REALLY DOES MATTER. I swear, it may not seem like it, but every fucking thing you do affects someone else. Always always always remember that. It doesn't even matter if you were trying to or not, but you'll always affect someone else. Because there's always someone paying attention, someone who hears...

So anyway, the other was something more trivial. Apparently, I was being annoying or something because I was sticking up for someone else and telling my other friend to stop being mean to someone. So this wonderful class culminated in me being yelled at by two people simultaneously in the same French class, in front of everyone. I'm sure as hell, that no one really cared, and it's a good thing that I can handle embarrassment well.

I just left the room. Which was okay. Because we had a sub, who told us to talk until our French teacher came from the other school. (Because of a tornado warning we had. We had all speculated, even having to sit with our backs against a cold brick wall.) I saw my friend Sarah at her locker and we had a chat, which shedded some much-needed perspective ("Well at least they won't be at your birthday party!") Even my math teacher saw us and asked us what we were doing, also telling me that the word was out that Aarushi's upset. (It's just like me. Everything about me is just bigger, more dramatic. Other people have fights with their friends subtley, but oh-no. not me. I have to get bitched at in front of the whole damn class.)

But people like me don't let our embarrassment show, we hold it in and our heads up. So I went back to class, past my friends and sat down and read the Kurt Cobain Journals. The people stared, but they lost interest, because I'm not really that interesting. So I sat and read the original version of Smells like Teen Spirit, until our teacher finally came. We ended French and I was still incredibly hurt. I maintained a civil face until I left school, because the tornado lockin doesn't apply to people who live next door to the school. It was okay out, a little damp. The winds were strong but only enough to blow your hair, which was in pigtails and didn't really care.

So, I, still in one of my moods akin to the famous APT self-decided-outside-solitary-confinement-with-iPod episode last summer at Shakespeare camp, sat on my front lawn with my backpack and my notebook, a pen and the Cobain journals. It's just a thing I do. I go outside and write. Usually on gray, slightly windy days, like today.

I wrote about my atmosphere using metaphors of course, because it woulda been stupid to write a poem or song or whatever about sitting on your lawn in your chucks with your notebook. But suddenly my need for metaphors disappeared as the wind blew, which didn't scare me, because, when you're in a bad mood, the weather conditions don't matter. So I wrote and as the thunder started to rumble and the lightning began to bolt, I wrote faster. The weather reflecting my mood so I wouldn't have to. I just wrote and wrote, letting the narration of weather be the narration of my life. The wind blew and the rain poured and the hail hit and my notebook just kept getting wetter. But it still contained it. I realized that I might get attacked by my own rubbish bin, so I opened the garage and ran in. I soaked in a bit of heat, putting on the song, Reign O'er Me by the Who and sitting on my porch steps, still writing. Sifting my thoughts straight through my pen. I didn't even have to chew on the back of my pen. It was just so urgent that I had to get it out. And the rain and storm compelled me as did Keith Moon's drumming and I had to keep going no matter how cold it was, because it was what I was being told. By the weather, which forced me, which needed me to keep on writing. So I could rid myself of anger, so I could gain something.

I feel like, I don't know, I wouldn't have had that same Musical-Rainy Epiphany thing if it hadn't been raining and I hadn't been outside. But I always felt like, the weather affected my moods, or my moods affected the weather. I mean it was sunny, but as I grew sadder and madder, it just erupted outside, as I began to feel more detached from my emotions. Almost like the storm was taking it with it. The song ended and I was finished writing and the storm had ended. And so had my tears.

This post is rated pg-12 for Aarushi's temperate language.
In the background, here, in the study/Chet's room, because of my recent computer relocation, I can hear the Rugrats. Angelica is screaming, Tommy's on some kind of adventure and Chucky's whining, again. You think those babies would learn. Only one thing comes to mind while hearing this, (we'll just disregard the fact that I just yelled at my poor sick brother to "turn the damn thing down because it's giving me a headache") I hate Rugrats!
I swear. It takes something as endearing as young children and makes them disgusting and annoying and LOUD. I mean, what is with Phil and Lil? Eww. This is an awful example to children. Eating worms? What the hell? Yeah, because that's my idea of fun. Along with playing with dirty diapers.
Tommy! Oh My god.. you fucking enabler. You are continuously making messes and not cleaning up after yourself. And you put yourself through unintelligent hoaxes. Like, let's pretend that Chucky's dad's new greenhouse is a jungle. Just because we can. OMG! A hose! It must be a snake. Run babies!
And Angelica. How I loathe her. How can someone be that obnoxious? How stupid do you have to be to watch obnoxious and annoying kids like this and not think, must change the channel?
The only person on that show who didn't have issues was Chucky. What a doll. See, he didn't want to break the rules and go into places without permission.
And how can babies be that stupid? I wanna use the "invisdible" powder because it'll make me "invisdible".
And the parents on this show. Are they just neglective or are they high? I mean, Didi should pay more attention to her kids than what Dr. Lipschitz tells her about her kids. And Stu, needs to get a job. Those stupid toys that he makes aren't getting him anywhere. I just feel sorry for the poor parents, who already have screaming children and have to endure more of it on their children's favorite television shows. I'm now thankful that my mother didn't expose me to that at a young age.

This is so cool. I found this great radio station. Indie 103.1 is based in Los Angeles, California. Can totally just imagine tons of celebrities (namely, Adam Brody) listening to it in their cars. You can hear live radio streaming at www.indie1031.fm/main.html . And today they're playing songs that people's bands send in.

Bright Eyes


I'm Wide Awake, It's morning album cover (photo: amazon.com)

I don't know why, but I feel compelled to write a review for Bright Eyes' album, I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning. I'm not really embarrassed to admit that I've been listening to ever since I bought it yesterday.

Connor Olberst (picture: magnetmagazine.com)

Bright Eyes basically consists of one guy, Conor Oberst, who's an amazing writer/songwriter, and has written songs about all things, especially politics and heartbreak and his ever-changing lineup. He released this album, simultaneously with another album, Digital Ash in a Digital Urn, which is supposed to be, more dance/techno music because Oberst wanted to "make a record based around rhythms. It seemed like up until now most of Bright Eyes' music had been melody and atmosphere, more, 'in your head' music, with not a lot of bodily response." The one review, I've read about that record said that it wasn't the best of the two. (Credit: Spin Magazine for quote.)But I gotta say, creative title.

Digital Ash in a Digital Urn album cover (picture: amazon.com)

As I start listening, the first track, At the bottom of Everything, I hear Oberst's haunting, monotoned voice telling a story about a woman on a plane to see her fiance, with only the unknown man next to her for company. The only thing she knows about this man is that he ordered a Bloody Mary. And she's reading a "really arduous magazine article about this third world country, that she couldn't even pronounce the name of and she's feeling very bored... very dispondent... And then, uh... suddenly, there's this huge mechanical failure, one of the engines gave out, and they started just falling, like, 30,000 feet and the pilot's on the microphone and he's saying...'I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Oh my god, I'm sorry' apologizing, and she looks at the man, and... and she says... and she says, 'Where are we going?'" His voice gets louder as the drums start. "And uh, he looks at her and he says, 'We're going to a party!'" The drums almost overpower but in a good way. "'It's a birthday party! It's your birthday party! Happy Birthday darling... We love you very very very very very very very much' and uh, he starts humming this little tune... and uh, it kinda goes like this, it's kinda, 1, 2, 1,2, 3, 4..."
and he the acoustic guitar hits in and plays a folk tune as he sings in his waily, hungry, mannish voice. He talks as he sings and you can tell his mood and tells his story well, as he tells it as a man, giving his ode to death and all the things they missed. And I may add that, when I was at SongMeanings.com a lot of people, not me, but a lot of people, said that his voice was 'really sexy' during that intro. As I am unbiased, I cannot share those emotions, however true they might be.
The songs in this album flow together as you listen. He partners with vocalists from My Morning Jacket, Jim James and Emmylou Harris. It adds nicely, and I find myself humming along harmonies. As I am writing this, I'm reading an article interviewing Conor Oberst, (I'm also listening to the CD and reading lyrics as well as keeping my book report in the back of my brain,) in which, Oberst relates the album to a long day. The song is We are Nowhere and it's now.
The Old Soul Song (For the New World Order), Oberst says is based off an Iraq Protest. On his birthday, February 15, 2003; it was the last big protest before the war started. "It was amazing because you feel very empowered and sort of hopeless at the same time." The song tells of the greyness of the day, the slight depression and the "wild" crowds of people fighting for what is right.
I must say, Lua, is one of the most depressing songs I've heard, but that's kind of the reason a person listens to Bright Eyes. To think about stuff, you don't really reflect on, unless you're that kind of person. This song is about his addict girlfriend. He tells of her heavy heart and his comforting her. You can hear the pain in his voice and I feel like I'm witnessing some kind of musical epiphany along with him. I can just imagine him in the studio with his guitar, all alone, softly strumming out his pain. It's an artform.
What I love about this record, is its tone. It is soft, but the most hardcore of music fans, will like it. Because it's atmospheric.
This is the First Day of my Life/ I swear I was born right in the doorway. These lyrics tell of a meeting between to people in love. They feel they hadn't lived until they met each other. It's a slightly unorthodox love song, but the emotion is there. (It's all in that sexy voice.) This is the first day of my life/ Glad I didn't die before I met you. It's amazingly sweet. Destined to go on some future mix CD of my favorite love songs.
Another Travelin' Song has a surprisingly upbeat tone, at least, for this record. On some country tune record, it may be the most depressing song, I wouldn't know. It is a duet with Emmylou Harris, once more, she has a good performance, in this folky song, heavily helped by drums, bass, guitar, steel and organ.
Landlocked Blues is another duet, that is (who woulda thought?) bluesy. It's sweet and lovingly done, with great attention to the emotional rants. He mentions a girl, Laura, who's been mentioned before, which kind of saddens me.
There's kids playing guns in the street/ And one's pointing his tree branch at me/ So I put my hands up/ Say Enough is enough/ If you walk away/ I'll walk away/ And he shot me dead There's pain and emotion in this music and holds your attention, because you feel it too. It touches your core, the part where everyone's the same and has a vulnerability in it that makes me realize how difficult it must be to release your emotions in a song. Like, when the words don't come and only music can speak.

The last song on the record, Road to Joy, which is my favorite song. The opening lines have a poppy rendition of Beethoven's 9th. It says: the sun came up with no conclusions/ Flowers sleeping in their beds/ The city cemetery's humming/I'm wide awake, it's morning. This illustrates the whole record's tone of living through a long day. It has a political ring. So when you're asked to fight a war that's over nothing/ it's best to join the side that's gonna win/ And no one's sure how all of this got started/ but we're gonna make them goddamn certain/how it's gonna end Which rings in a sarcasm, which many crave. The last line gives some perspective on Oberst's career and also on life and how certain people think and live; I could have been a famous singer/ if I had someone else's voice/ But failure's always sounded better/ Let's fuck it up boys/ Make some noise. Then there's a musical explosion and you can feel the heat of it radiating from your ears, even if you're not even there.
I really love this album. It's $9.99 well-spent. And what's great is that over the period of time I've been listening, (I don't even want to know how much time I spent away from my book report,) I feel like I've gone through a change. A musical, kind of spiritual enlightenment. Which is kind of the reason I listen to music.

So I had this dream last night. I was selling things. Cereal products. With Catherine Zeta-Jones! And we have all of our stuff in these brown paper grocery bags.You know Chewy bars, Rice Krispy treats, Kashi GoLean cereal... and we're on this street in Britain, even though it looks like France, except I haven't been to France since I was a wee babe, so it was actually like 1950s movie France, (you know the same thing minus the dog crap?)and that witchy lady from The Way We Were who ended up with Robert Redford, even though it shoulda been Barbra Streisand, came over and was talking in a phony British accent. I mean she's an actress right? People have heard her talk dozens of times, so how can she fake an accent now? So I matched her accent and showed her Catherine's locket, which by the way, had a picture of herself, only blonde, in it. So witchy lady buys some Kashi GoLean cereal, thanks to my salesperson skills and the fact that I'm hanging out with Catherine Zeta-Jones.
And then suddenly I'm in India, on a similar looking street even though streets in Britain that look like France, don't really exist in India. So I see my Nani (mom's mom) there and she says "Hi," but doesn't even care about Catherine. SHe wants a Chewy bar, but Catherine finished most of the box on the off-screen plane flight and I had just eaten the last one, so I compensated by giving her a Rice Krispy Treat. Then Chet woke me up.
Clearly, I am going to have go into a TV-free meditation before I go to sleep.

I don't like it... I don't like it at all. I suppose we knew it was coming... We'd been warned. We'd been preparing ourselves for it. But somehow I still had hope. I don't know why, it's just, why give up?
I didn't want this to happen. I didn't want it to have to be stopped. I wanted something to happen. Maybe a miracle. But miracles aren't that easy to come by.
When I heard it, I wasn't really surprised. I'd expected it, but I couldn't have been.
Because I realized. All of the hope in preparing, all of the joy that had been banished the moment we found out. There was a chance. A chance. For something amazing to happen. A bummer. A huge bummer.
You keep wishing and praying for something to happen and then it will, but then it doesn't.
Is it fair? I don't know. I just don't know.
We'll go on, life will go on. But we'll be more careful with our hope. Always cautious that it might be pulled away.
There's no answers that I can come up with, just that this is how life is. Unfortunately, their's hadn't started yet.

Random thoughts of a spontaneous mind...
listening to: "Heart Shaped Box"- Nirvana
wearing: pjs- brigadoon shirt and angel pants which i wrote all over
feeling: tired, but unfulfilled. my back hurts. i feel... in a rut.. good thing it's a new year.
I'm having a writers block. SO i think i'm going to have some random thoughts of a spontaneous mind. right now.


shoes= People totally subconsciously judge people based on their shoes. I do that all the time. First, I'll just be there, in math class, staring off into space, because it's the only thing you can do when you sit at the far back and my gaze falls upon a pair of shoes. And I go, "Oh those are nice, come to think of it, betty's really nice," and I get a little positive boost of energy and the next time Betty asks to borrow a pencil, I'm more inclined to say, "Sure, nice shoes." And then when i go shopping for shoes, I feel so confident when I'm wearing my pink chucks which i wrote all over, because they show my artistic capabilities and my phat farms make me feel "debonaire" which is nice, because I don't have many cool shoes. And the best part, they don't even have to be expensive... if they're a decent color, clean and a little faded, they're fine, i mean, i like it, when people write on their shoes... it tells me a little more about them and it's fun.

deleting a song? hell, no= This really pissed me off. Before I got my iPod, I was begging everyone to tell me whether I should get a big or a mini. The benefit of a big was, more songs, but the little one was sooo cute. And you know what some people said to me, "Oh my gosh, your getting an iPod? You should get the little one, because it's so cute. And plus, once a song gets old, you can just delete it!" Ohmygoodness, red flags are going off, an alarm is sounding, poor dogs are barking because they hate alarms and somewhere Aarushi is inwardly screaming.
Deleting a song? Oh no. I couldn't. I wouldn't dare. Unless of course, it was a crappy song, but I don't listen to crappy songs. A song, in my mind, is like a message from god. Okay, maybe not that intense, (because a lot of songs are about sex) but anyway, it's like the truist art form, a portrait of the human soul. When you write a song and sing it, it's like sharing a piece of you. And would you want a piece of you just clicked away? I don't think so. It's the same thing as tearing up a beautiful painting, burning a poem and why? To make space for something new. And new isn't always better, it's just new. In fact, the music of our generation sucks. Especially on Z104, which plays the same songs, over and over again. (like the song, over and over)
And songs are like a fine wine, as they get older, they mature and grow. Yeah, it's the same chords, but at different points in your life, music has different meanings. And I would hate, having just the current music on my iPod! What good is it if I only have Britney Spears's In the Zone album or Destiny Fulfilled or whatever the hell people are listening to? What about the Beatles? U2? David Bowie? Nirvana? ANd i thought people liked Nirvana... Yeah so it's a little old, but it's really good. People don't waste all that time recording music if you're only gonna keep it for a year. Because believe it or not, people don't do it just for the cash. They want to get their message through, they want to be heard and they want to spread their emotions through their music. It's not fair if all of it is thrown away. Music is one of the greatest gifts, and great gifts shouldn't be cast off. So here, if the song sucks, delete it, but if you like it, with all your perspective on life, please keep it in. (Oh and I got the non-mini one, because I don't delete.)

That's it for now.. But tune in later.

By the way, this is just my opinion. I'm not trying to change anyone else's. I'm only venting, I'm not trying to preach or tell you who to be.

I guess I can't be surprised. I've put off writing this post for a long week. The election is over, most probably. This is the one week anniversary of the Election on November 2nd (this is also the anniversary of seeing Simple Plan live,). This has been one of the closest races ever, but Oh My GOD! Why did he have to win?!
I mean, of all the people who could've been our president, it had to be the Bush. I mean, it's heartbreaking to see that half of America is okay with everything he did and want more. When I found out, I was like, that's it, Armageddon is upon us.
I mean, I have nothing against him, (except the whole war thing and the bad leadership thing), I think he's a good person. But I feel like Bush is taking away all of our rights, and is not going to do well for this world. His war was unjustified, his laws are based mainly on his own religious beliefs, he's not letting people have the money they deserve, so the rich will be richer and the poor will become poorer.
I'm not ashamed to admit it, I cried. I mean, at the time I was so hyped up, thinking about John Kerry and all the good he would do and how he might actually do it right, and then it all crashed down as the reality settled in. George W. Bush won. George W. Bush is the most powerful man in the world.
A man who will not represent the entire population, just a percentage. I felt like the world was crashing down. I mean, what if I was someone else? What if I was dying of Parkinson's? What if I was raped and no one could prove it and pregnant? What if I was poor? What if I was old and couldn't take care of myself? What if I was in the army?
I HATE IT!
And only 17% of the youth even voted! I mean, they take so much for granted. I'm not a citizen and might not get to vote by the time I turn 18, because I wasn't born here. And those who can, just don't.
THANK YOU AMERICA. for showing me how smart you are.
We're just so proud, we don't realize the whole world hates us. It's so clear to the rest of the world, that we're going so wrong. When I was in India, the only thing anyone was talking about was how awful Bush's decisions were. Everyone laughs at us and no one knows.
It's so stupid. I mean, I've done nothing wrong, i've been a good kid, never stolen or intentionally hurt anyone, since I hit seventh grade, i swore off being mean unless provoked in the last week by said person, trying my best to take the high road and just avoid people I don't like and not associating with people who make me feel bad about myself or who disrespect me and have been nice enough to keep forgiving people who walk all over me because I'm too nice to hold a grudge for too long and want to avoid drama so that I just become a doormat, because I'm just the nice person who does stuff for people who don't notice and don't even care, who just expect it. Okay, where was I?
Yeah I'm not a bad person. I don't know any people I would call bad persons, so I'm thinking America is just filled with good people, some of which, make bad decisions, so how could this happen? I mean, I try so hard to think that the world is a good place to live in and that everything happens for a reason, leading to our ultimate good fate as long as we stay good people, but this makes me change my mind sooo much. i feel completely let down.
I mean PEOPLE ARE DYING in Iraq and India and Iran and basically every third world country, people are forever Judged on appearances, first impressions and no one believes that people are always changing, the people in power only help those who are in power, girls are raped, children are beaten and have to work 23 hours a day, while people are shoved into middle schools and high schools where no one understands them or take the time to listen and everyone is so damn selfish that they can't consider anyone but themselves(PG13). People are forgotten, music dies out, people's dreams are crushed, people go on with out being discovered, hearts break, there are no second chances, you can't go back, people abandon their families and drink all day or take drugs and end up accidentally hurting themselves. And it's not going to stop! Because our generation is doing the same things even earlier.
I'm so incredibly jaded. once again, thank you George Bush for being the tip of my iceberg.

"No matter what happens, everything's always back to normal by the end of the episode." -Fry, Futurama


You know how on TV shows everything's normal and then when something happens the episode starts? Well, what is normal? I don't really think that normal is possible. Nothing's normal. I mean everyday we are different from what we were the day before, everyday filled with discovery and every moment unique. I mean how is it possible to be normal when normal is, according to dictionary.com,
according with, constituting, or not deviating from a norm, rule, or principle b : conforming to a type, standard, or regular pattern, but when is there ever a regular pattern in life? I mean life is ever-changing, ever growing. There is always a different occurence, a different dialogue, nothing is ever constant or the same. If you think about anything, it's always changing... sure there's a regular routine, a
common pattern, but there are always parts that are being changed, parts that are staying the same. life is never normal.
I think that normality is an illusion.

She Will Be Loved 


 
I don't mind spending everyday
Out on your corner in the pouring rain
Look for the girl with the broken smile
Ask her if she wants to stay awhile
And she will be loved
She will be loved
 
Tap on my window knock on my door
I want to make you feel beautiful
I know I tend to get so insecure
It doesn't matter anymore
 
It's not always rainbows and butterflies
It's compromise that moves us along
My heart is full and my door's always open
You can come anytime you want
 
This is one of the sweetest songs I've ever heard. Plus it's got killer vocals and instrumental which makes this song basically perfect. Seriously this is the kind of song that makes me literally cry. And Maroon5 is just so real. The music has such a good sense of reality. And they're just so damn good at what they do. I don't know whether to hate them or to love them. They make the kind of music I'd love to be able to write and sing. I really admire them.

But yet I wish we were still that way. Chummy, nothing will tear us apart, forever friends. The good kind. I wish we could be the way we were before Information Technology and internet web sites made us stop seeing the good things about each other.
We let the people we would never want to be like anyway, dictate what we thought of each other.
So, if you don't hate me, I'd really like to start over and forget old arguments. It doesn't matter who was right or wrong. But from this moment, I call truce. And if you don't believe in that, please don't associate with me in blog. Thank you.

I hate this.
I have a friend, well used to have a friend who was always there to talk, would listen to me and value my opinions. She would be really supportive and listen to my never-ending babble. She sat with me and stood up for me and was always there for me. Well, she died. Not really, but she's not like that anymore.
Lately she's been really mad. Really short tempered with me. I don't want to be around her so much because all we ever do now is fight. She told me she hated me and that she was sick of me and ignored me when I was right there. Someone who used to stand up for me is starting to regard herself as an enemy.
I don't like it. I mean, your friends are your friends, regardless. But she isn't. She doesn't want to be.