(no subject)
have spent the past week playing with my journal. now have lovely shannyn sossamon perched naked behind my and who knows whose pink words. am very pleased. could not change font, however. not so pleased about that. bastard free account.
bugger.
have been talking to jon, jon from danville and my summer in coeur d'alene. he is a doll. doll face. doll boy... making plans, mostly in my head, to see him soon. make him come see me, or drive there... who knows. who knows who knows. am a little afraid he would want to come here, as there is nothing to do and he would most certainly fall over dead from boredom. that would not be kosher.
it's strange talking to him now, after not speaking for so long, and only knowing him very briefly. still time makes one seem like a close friend lost, when really, only an acquaintance. naked aquaintance, but nonetheless.
having heard nothing from AIU in london, have made several inquiries into other schools. fashion fashion fashion. making clothes and costumes and stretch denim miracles, making beautiful people look as if they have some sense of what makes fabric work, who fucking knows what's going to happen. have been working on graphics for tee shirts mostly, tee shirts and skin tigh white dresses with boatnecks and pencil skirts and thick waist bands falling crooked below the hips.
realizing more and more each day just how badly i fucked up that whole 'high school' thing, wanting nothing less that to go back to four c's. fucking TAH! september, next september, i'm leaving. not sure yet where, london, new york, san francisco, los angeles, fucking kalamazoo (an actual town in the armpit of some central us state somewhere, i learned). where ever. gone.
gone gone gone.
not so safe.
not so happy. or moreso? maybe, finally, happy.
not that i am so un, but feels like i'm following the invisible on time girl, missing everything. shadows caught in closing doors.
going for a drive.
smoke a clove.
possibly socialize.
bugger.
have been talking to jon, jon from danville and my summer in coeur d'alene. he is a doll. doll face. doll boy... making plans, mostly in my head, to see him soon. make him come see me, or drive there... who knows. who knows who knows. am a little afraid he would want to come here, as there is nothing to do and he would most certainly fall over dead from boredom. that would not be kosher.
it's strange talking to him now, after not speaking for so long, and only knowing him very briefly. still time makes one seem like a close friend lost, when really, only an acquaintance. naked aquaintance, but nonetheless.
having heard nothing from AIU in london, have made several inquiries into other schools. fashion fashion fashion. making clothes and costumes and stretch denim miracles, making beautiful people look as if they have some sense of what makes fabric work, who fucking knows what's going to happen. have been working on graphics for tee shirts mostly, tee shirts and skin tigh white dresses with boatnecks and pencil skirts and thick waist bands falling crooked below the hips.
realizing more and more each day just how badly i fucked up that whole 'high school' thing, wanting nothing less that to go back to four c's. fucking TAH! september, next september, i'm leaving. not sure yet where, london, new york, san francisco, los angeles, fucking kalamazoo (an actual town in the armpit of some central us state somewhere, i learned). where ever. gone.
gone gone gone.
not so safe.
not so happy. or moreso? maybe, finally, happy.
not that i am so un, but feels like i'm following the invisible on time girl, missing everything. shadows caught in closing doors.
going for a drive.
smoke a clove.
possibly socialize.