maude

Fri, 14 Nov 2008 19:12:17 GMT

When I met you, I was just a kid. Hadn't built up my defenses. So I gave my heart completely. Vaseline over the lenses. Memories don't go away. I remember every day. I never, ever stop wondering. Wondering if you still think of us. I don't need a photograph. Because you've never left my mind. No, you've never left my mind. I remember feeling like a ship. Whose captain was too drunk to steer. And you watched as I was sinking. Waving sadly from the pier. Memories don't go away. I remember every day.I never, ever stop wondering. Wondering if you still think of us.I don't need a photograph. Because you've never left my mind. No, you've never left my mind. It's such a burden to carry around. The vestiges of dead dreams. And I don't want to make a wake out of my life. I just have to let you go.

Fri, 14 Nov 2008 18:25:02 GMT

my mind is racing in lanes that don't even fucking exist.

Fri, 14 Nov 2008 18:23:33 GMT

I can't believe I'm having to post this
Anthony
Why am I caring or even thinking of your existance now? Why did you have to go and add me. You've corrupted my emotional state for the near future and it's all for nothing. Why must you insist to remain in contact with me after 3 years? It's breaking my heart. We're both just so different now and I just don't see the point. But you probably aren't even doing anything really. I'm just a lonely girl thats feeling like a toy to men and you coming along isn't helping me deny this. I dreamed about you last night and it's making me weep. We were in love and it was perfect, just the way perfect love would be. Or just the way we used to be. We kissed and made love and cuddled and you loved me and cared about me. It's true, you were the only boy I ever loved. And I'm sure our pathetic just short of 4 month relationship means nothing in comparison to the love of you life, that phsyco beast of 3 years. We didn't even really fuck. I guess I really am a girl. I guess I really am emotionally attached to my first love. And just kind of depressed that I haven't loved a boy that loved me back the way we did long ago in silly 15 year old land. I can't believe I'm crying over this. IT WAS A STUPID DREAM. And it was a stupid hello. I guess you just wanted to remind me that you exist. Well good job. You did. And all I'm craving for is that you'll come back. I know thats ridiculous. I'm not the same girl I used to be. I'm sure you're not the same boy. And by god I'd tower over you by a foot at least. And all I really need to acknowledge is that I'm sad. I'm just lonely. I want a mutual love, and you treated me so great. You made me feel better than any boy ever had. You made acid butterflies flit around in my stomach consistantly. It's unhealthy to be feeling this right? I mean it was 3 fucking years ago. I guess it would just be nice to know you feel a little bit the same about me. I'm just sad.

Fri, 14 Nov 2008 17:56:32 GMT

what the fuck is happening to me?
why are all of you stupid boys infecting my dreams and making me crave this...this love bullshit?
and why do I let dreams trip me out so much.
and why do I always dream about weird ass reality tv show situations like being on rock of love or the bachelor?
what the fuck.

and now because of this my mind is racing in lanes that don't even fucking exist.
it's really becoming a problem. I can't let my ridiculous dreaming rule my emotions.
I mean it is my subconcious, but it's also bullshit right?

Mon, 10 Nov 2008 04:52:59 GMT

What do I do about you?
You're the most beautiful.
The most beautiful.
I would leave it all for you so fast. We'd run away forever, up into the clouds, where the princes come from. And rainbows would fall from the sky where our love was made, to grace the world with such beauty.
You're a dream.
I could have never even known you, but I do and it's some sort of magic.
A magical presence that injects itself through my veins and soaks up all my passion and desire, my thoughts. I have such high hopes for you, you couldn’t let me down. And if you did I’d have to forgive you. You can do no wrong, I melt at your feet.
I rarely ever lust for love these days. Lust for lust. But I think of you and what you do to me, so easily, casting your alpha-perfection in my direction.
How can I resist?
You give me hope in the painful cycle.
Man after man after man after (wo)man.
"I'll never love again"
I've made exceptions.
But you're just a dream! And oh what a dream.

Mon, 10 Nov 2008 04:25:16 GMT

hot heavy rocks are nestled in my stomach!

Sun, 09 Nov 2008 15:34:57 GMT

so last night I fucked 2 guys. 0ne of which I had met 2 minutes before it went down. I know as a female this probably makes me a..."whore," and I probably should feel sad and worthless and want to cry about it, but I just genuinly enjoy pleasing men. I smelllll trophy wife! (not to mention, I saw the eiffle tower, with another fellow! ha ha haaa). I've come to the conclusion that I can pretty much fuck whoever I want, whenever I want. Psh, it's a mans world.

Thu, 23 Oct 2008 06:09:18 GMT

nordoisthebest: your a beautiful flower
nordoisthebest: a dick sucking bowie loving flower

who dis.

Tue, 21 Oct 2008 23:48:37 GMT

i had a dream last night that i fucked megan hauserman from rock of love. it was great. god i'm such a dyke sometimes.

Tue, 21 Oct 2008 18:55:06 GMT

oops I did it again!

So now I know where I get my irrationality from. Now I know where I get my fighting from. Thanks mother, we're much more alike than I ever thought. I don't even know what to do. I can't believe I've done this. I can't believe I uttered the words. Violet is far too smart. I know she knows I love her but I also know she'll take this seriously, and she has every reason to. When I'm angry like that, more than likly I'm not thinking correctly, and she's so fucking smart that she can slaughter anyone just by having a higher vocabulary. I know this and before it even happens am afraid of it which adds to the crazyness. I can't even talk straight. When I think about what I said last night, in my mind it's "bldhfuesmdfsodiurosadghdjfhsudythghgdsdmf." The worst part of all of this is I don't even fucking know why I was so angry. How do I apologize for saying shit that I said when it was completely unjustified. I'm screwed. Unforgivable. I wasn't even bluffing. I just wasn't thinking. I can't even remember last night. I'm always oblivious. I wanted to be taken seriously and I was far from serious. And she knows it. But what do I do now. The second I got in my car I knew what I did was dumb. I can't think about anything else. I can hardly see out of my eyes. I guess what hurt the most is that she honestly believes that I do these..."petty" things on purpous, to piss her off. Why the fuck would I spend so much fucking time with someone I didn't like. And then tried to say I give back nothing. blllllllllasjdhkhfskdhfskdfhskdhroeirfsaoidfjalsdjaldhfsdughsdohgsdgfodjr;sdfjas;dlhfsaklhfskldfhso angry.

for the record

Mon, 20 Oct 2008 03:33:38 GMT

You, Lo-lo-lo-identified as a -LOLITA, what's with all this nonsense color whirl of floating heads and model's bodies waiting there, horizontal, vertical- correctly positioned even, staring at me in the midst of some graceful striding transportation sequence using long and well toned legs to find me, then there's some sexy thumping tron music spouting off declarations of some seventeen year-old attraction to those who just wanna use the young girls, easy girls, girls fit for mating habits- anywhow, I'm so tired of my torpid lifestyle, neglecting all those beautiful beautiful- self-beautified people I wish I could know and talk to so frequently gaining the utmost respect and attention desire, perhaps even day-dreams whose subject is me-me so far away and I'm quite aware that you, Brooke, shall never know what tune I sing this sweet, jolly song to unstoppingly without fail, far from myself- my mind, I'm breaking out of it all. Now I sit here feeling much like the way I felt long, long ago on a night in some month I've surely forgotten now WONDER AND SPECTACLE lightning flash hallucinating grotesque things down on the rocky and ice wedged driveway I call my own, unwillingly I was born here into this family of four- deviating birth order norms, I've just read about in a public magazine, oh so-public mag. one that enjoys near uncontested attention, TIME, THAT IS TIME GREAT MONOLITH OF TIME- where do they look over all of that publica-a-
shion?

I will never know, no- I shall NEVER KNOW, unless I suddenly might look upon the back cover of it's design. It's design shows me nothing, I did take the time

To look
at nothing.

And all of that time has amounted to nothing.

What has happened late tell
ee? In your heart? In your mind? In your lifestyle so far away, from this street- wooded street- causing sunlight to be broken into many scattered rays, obstructed by the oak leaves and southern pines and maple's all dyi
eeee"

by wade collier

Sun, 19 Oct 2008 16:47:34 GMT

THEY'RE ON MY FEET NOW.

Sun, 19 Oct 2008 16:31:10 GMT

Real Life Casting call for an attractive 30-50 year old male. Must have classy business suits and high income/willing-ness to spend all earnings on me. Must be open to cheat on possible spouse (threesomes okay...if she's hot) and creepy enough to take a tall blonde 18 year old shopping in return for road head in shiny black Caddies and sexual escapades in foreign places, and on, under, or in sight of, deep velvet couches. First class trips to Europe and stays in fancy hotels expected. No STD's. Perscription to Viagra acceptable if you're Johnny Depp. Preferably open to drugs, buying champagne for the underaged, and maxing out credit cards at my favorite store Trashy Lingerie. Expensive jewelry and perfume is much appreciated, as well as silicone implants. Mustaches, Chest hair, cigar smoker, and possession of Oxford Loafers and satin robes will make you more than qualified. Hopefully in proprietary rights of fallacio-proof red lipstick.
See Also: Sugar Daddy

Mon, 13 Oct 2008 21:48:45 GMT

oh Elina from antm cycle 10, 11, whatever...I didn't even know that show existed still. but who is this? Since when are lesbians this stunning. I want this girl to be my loverrrr. and get this. she's a porn star! ha ha ha ha hsdlsdjhhfhsi hate tyra so fucking much.

I've been considering becoming a stripper lately. I believe I can detach myself emotionally enough to do it. It's so painfully easy, and what great money. Then I'd have the funds to buy everything I wanted at Trashy Lingerie, and more reason to wear them! Maybe I've been watching too much Rock of Love...but I think with some fake tits and pole dancing classes, I'd do a great job.

I got my new Halloween/everyday costume. It's a cop uniform. I broke it in already and it must be washed. I hate hand washing things.

Oh yeah, and I'm going to beauty school! 5 months of absolute freedom is coming to an end.

Mon, 13 Oct 2008 21:40:36 GMT

5 years ago, I honestly never thought the girl I sat next to in English and History would turn out to be my rehabbed coke whore, heroin smoking, ex-best friend that attempted beating up my girlfriend.

Sun, 12 Oct 2008 18:06:25 GMT

OH OH OH!
What a horrible time! For once, just once I thought I may have convinced myself that I could have a physical relationship with someone without it depressing the shit out of me. I just want to love! But wait, everybody SUCKS. It's times like these that I'm not surprised I only spend time with Violet. I'm so social, I love to please, but I feel as if I honestly dislike everyone else in the world. Why is everyone so fucked up in all the wrong places? I dig fucked up people. I like people with problems, with a backbone, with substance and a reason for their existence, a motive for survival, people worth my interest. I'm the chillest person I know. I wish more people were like me. Fuck modesty, if people had the same thought process I did, or at least were open to it. This shit isn't even going to tie together....let me ramble. Since when is the girl the one that never calls back. Since when is the female the one that doesn't want commitment, only wants a light sexual fling. I have a serious fucking problem! Every guy I ever meet falls in love with some awkward dumb blonde. I know my dress it short, I know my hair is blonde, I know my boobs are out. I accept that you're going to notice this. I accept that this attracts the wrong kind of attention, but do you listen to the words that come out of my mouth? They're all too fucking stupid to realize that they're the dumbasses. I hate that. I hate being around stupid people, that are so stupid they don't even understand intelligence, or sarcasm, references, humor. No one has a sense of humor these days. I hate dumb people that are such airheads they think I'm the dumb one. I'm struggling to understand why I'm here, and all the other pussy 18 year old problems that I seem to have. I wanted to cry when I got my nails done. I can never believe the lack of depth in people these days. What do I have to do to find a decent human being? I'm not even narrowing this down to idiotic teenagers. In fact I have more problems with adults, sad, middle-aged, think-their-blonde-hair-and-fake-tan-makes-it-okay-to-act-16-fucking-years-old. For how much weed they smoked in the 60-70's you would think they'd be a little more chill. BLSADHFSDJLf. And now I feel ridiculous for thinking such cliché, goodbye-cruel-world thoughts. But come the fuck on. 40 year old Westlake moms talk shit to me?! As satisfied as I am with Violet, I mean I don't think I could love another as much as I love her, how has this happened? Where can I go to find someone that doesn't just accept that going to school, getting a job, making money, and having a family, is the inevitable future. Why can't people strive for passion, excitement, freedom, intelligence, love, and of course those oh so wonderfully lovely negative emotions? Allow yourself to feel! I really hope no one has even bothered to read through this. I'm just pissed off.

Sat, 11 Oct 2008 17:27:35 GMT

My life at the moment can be best described by the following songs.

Avenue D: Do I look Like a Slut?
Avenue D: Backseat Bushwach
Avril Lavigne: Girlfriend
Blink-182: Reckless Abandon
Blink-182: Give Me One Good Reason
Flaming Lips: Fight Test
Metric: The Twist
Velvet Underground: Femme Fetale
2pac: Thug Mansion

Fri, 08 Aug 2008 19:39:44 GMT

i saw the faint two nights ago and it was the best night of my life. I'm seeing immortal tonight. and a while back i met the most beautiful boy aka waldo at a wolf parade show. i don't even like wolf parade but i am a fan of boys that wear such thickly prescribed glasses that their eyes are magnified, and when they ask me if i want to razor blade my skin and put batteries in it. so this is love!

it's very sad i'm almost depending on this livejournal to keep me knowledgeable of my own life. i can't even tell you what day it is.

Wed, 30 Jul 2008 17:48:06 GMT

it's been an awful long while since i used this thing, and i should be since my life is more exciting now than it ever has been.

+i went to prom dressed in a victorias secret negligee with my girlfriend
+we went to the madonna inn afterwards. stayed in harvard square.
+i got fucked 5 times by a 27 soon to be 28 year old venician stoner...named Jamal. he's not black
+violet was there the whole time ha ha ha
+continued relationship with jamal. he has a great sketchy garage in venice. violet and i stay there sometimes. however we told him we were in france cause we were tired of him. he might love me
+smoke weed

Fri, 11 Jul 2008 06:30:25 GMT

nevasaudivi: hey i gotta stuff my face with hot dripping calories i hope one day to stuff my face with hot dripping bbed holla

viooooolet: I innocently descended and as I entered the living room I found my grandmother on the couch, wearing a disturbingly short cotton muumuu and bunny ears. She is half-obscured in boxes of Easter-theme candy wrappers, clutching an enormous chocolate bunny upside-down in her left hand while intently watching a Tarzan-spoof comedy that features talking apes and terrible graphics. She’s also petting my dog, and there are chocolate smears on my dog.

for the record

Tue, 11 Mar 2008 03:18:03 GMT

my rambling in response to Daniela Chorines sad pathetic boy obsessed journal entry. Why do i save stuff like this?

Oh my god, as if you don't have enough advice already, I can't bare to read through them all however I hope because I've known you on quite a personal level and for a while, you might take more of what I say into consideration...not trying to discredit anyone but ANYWAYS I'll stop disclaiming.

The short time I was great friends with you, you opened up a lot. I know you. I've been inside and out of all of your every feeling and thoughts. This post you made, isn't something we don't already know. I was nodding my head at nearly every sentence and I think anyone that has gotten to know you can say the same. You just finally put it into words and laid it all out on the table, FOR YOURSELF. I think that’s the best start, however...I'm going to say what I'm sure EVERYONE has said in response. OBVIOUSLY CHANGING ISN'T WORKING. As much as people think we can fool, manipulate, deceive, etc.man kind has common sense. Common sense to be able to get vibes off of things that we can't directly pinpoint. Our subconscious can clue us in to things (especially when you're younger..It’s a proven fact) such as shallow people, lacking in depth, being fake, putting on a facade, etc. etc. If I can teach you anything about guys (and I've had my highest highs and lowest lows as many know) it's that the more bullshit you try and pull off, the more fucked up it's going to be. It's like makeup. It can only cover, and only cover so much. Make up will never truly fix something. And if you're unsatisfied with un-instantaneous male gratification, suck it up, like we all have to. The more vulnerable you let yourself be, the more guys are going to sense that and use you all up. They're not as dumb as you may think. It's unfortunate that the media, through movies and music...(ESPECIALLY good idie music) unfortunately, promotes the idea of lots of lovers, lots of fucked up relationships, being unhappy, and miserable, and too stubborn to ever go about fixing it. It seems so desirable and I know you see this, as well as myself that you can almost get off to thinking of a fucked up relationship as being poetic and movie-esque. As appealing as it may seem, you and I and everyone that’s gone through that knows toying with emotions is not something to brag about unless you're Connor Oberst or Tim Kasher.
I'm sorry to continually ramble but I guess what it all comes down to is that YOU NEED TO TOUGH IT OUT. Not everything comes so easily, BUT you also shouldn't have to throw yourself in front of a moving train for your love. You need to find a healthy medium where you can deal with a lack of love, ease into it, have intense emotions with someone whose willing to have them back, but also be open to personality modifications IF NEEDED. I.e. if you're being a bitch you could put more effort into being nicer, without being fake. If you're bleaching your hair for a guy, or not dressing the way you want, or changing yourself, that’s already a red flag. I've been dealing with this so much so recently and you know how confident I used to be. Guys even made ME hate myself. The more you let them do that to you, the more they're going to. And unless you can completely un-attach yourself from fooling around out of drunken, horniness, rather than genuinely thinking free blow jobs will get you in the game, you need to back up and really think about how you can successfully fulfill both needs in a relationship. I really hope you read this because I value you as a person and I think I'm the only one of these 70 comments that might actually know your name. Even if we never talk, I care about you and genuinely care about your happiness, and you know I am always willing to listen or talk if you need ANYTHING. Any time. I believe you have my number. Please don't hesitate. With that being said, I will also promote the idea of therapy however, DO NOT GO IN THERE with a mask on. People often think they can lie to their therapist and get something out of it and it doesn't work that way. You wont get anything out of it unless you lay everything out on the line. And if that makes you nervous, I'm not sure in Canada if it's the same, but in the United States, a therapist is LEGALLY not allowed to tell your parents anything you've said, unless it's like a suicide/death threat or something highly illegal like you shooting up heroin.

ANYWAYS, again, I really hope you read this and take it into consideration as I did to what you said. I know it’s a lot. I'm done rambling, Good day.

Tue, 11 Mar 2008 02:39:42 GMT

"And the more she could imagine this island, the less she liked the real world. The more she could imagine the people, the less she liked any real people...It got until she didn’t belong anywhere. It got so nobody was good enough, refined enough, real enough.....Nothing was as real as her imagined world."

for the record

Wed, 05 Mar 2008 05:23:17 GMT

brentron	Mar 4, 2008 7:58 PM In eager anticipation of my being able to see the fruits of your brains I hopped the expressway at a quarter to six and Starfoxed past a thousand miles of dredge slugs all the way to my backyard for the slut pickings of three lost waifs encountering grand picture sizings labeled by the inches to warm my quarry for pavement scabs performing like dainty pizza dribblings for my eventual icing masquerade made from sugar and fairy shavings. It was purple.

brentron

Mar 4, 2008 7:58 PM

In eager anticipation of my being able to see the fruits of your brains I hopped the expressway at a quarter to six and Starfoxed past a thousand miles of dredge slugs all the way to my backyard for the slut pickings of three lost waifs encountering grand picture sizings labeled by the inches to warm my quarry for pavement scabs performing like dainty pizza dribblings for my eventual icing masquerade made from sugar and fairy shavings. It was purple.

for the record

Sat, 01 Mar 2008 21:49:36 GMT

I had to pick 10 designers and put them in a book in a creative and visually appealing way, i.e. a collage with an excessive load of jewels, sequins, and glitter to fool anyone without a creative eye into thinking I’m some artistic fashion genius. It wasn’t my best work. Anyways, when you open this book, the first thing you see is your pretty face, however. I couldn’t resist gluing green googly eyes over your eyes. And Brentron has diamonds for nipples. Along the side it says "Dedicated to: OSIP&BRENTRON, HEAVENLY CLOUD PRINCES." Now is probably a good time to tell you that you, Osip, are the ‘Fashion and Retail Merchandising class on Wednesday-Friday’ mascot. After dropping your name in the cover letter of my mock-resume, everybody fell in love with you almost as much as I have. And with that, there is a picture of you...hanging on the wall of my classroom to be worshiped by my eyes and torment/confuse the minds of those who don't quite understand my Alabama obsession.

Love Always,

Brooke Allison Creep-Bedford

P.S. Last night I accidentally drove to Mexico, and in my not-sleeping-for-3-days-chugging-energy-drinks-every-hour-s-w-e-d state of mind, I decided it was a good idea for Violet and I to just...try our luck at fleeing to Alabama on a quarter tank of gas in a big red obnoxious SUV. Fortunately, for my family, and my education...I am horrible at comprehending freeway signs, and am home, at my computer, instead of stranded near the border of California and Arizona thinking, "maybe we can push the car there." It's times like these I wish the spontaneous part of my brain would invade the logical part.

for the record

Thu, 28 Feb 2008 05:32:05 GMT

By Wade Collier

I've been sitting at this computer for a single month hoping that dreams would come true in a tiny glimpse of hope embodied in far=off California girl Brooke Bedford,
treating her like some shining beacon of glitter shock-strange style dwelling in my idea of paradise spawn of happening and legend. I think I have far too many golden California ideas for my own good,
As if the place is the single gate and window for my lofty ambitions of art and caged animal preformance. What is it that I want to export into other's minds?
A tragic decline of good-mind in a worldly spin of forces chosen but far out of my control,
like: wild minded strangeness of thought, reality blasting vision drugs, petty soapbox preaching of spirituality and prophetic ideas, young death and tragic loss of beauty to the void.