make it

I feel kind of sick. I went down to ace after art direction to pick up a pumpkin carving kit but they were all sold out. So instead I'm really sitting around at home watching friends and thinking about how sick I feel. It's weird.

The after midterm effect

Another monday and I'm glad I only have art direction black and white comps due on wednesday. We've been living off Pirouettes and some sort of semi unsweetened white bread the past few days. I've never been so broke in my life but I do know that I will still be spending alot of money this weekend with the arrival of halloween, pumpkin carving and everything mitchell&shotwell. I'm really enriched with sleeping at 6/7 in the morning, I love dozing off when the sun comes up. I live on chai tea latte during illustrator/indesign classes and today erupted into a really cold day. It was not nice to walk back, I hate the dark. I miss Hide and Arthur, I hope they come back soon so I can try beating them at wii, watch movies and laugh really loudly not caring about everyone else on the road.

the urban forest project was due in class today, I'm glad thats over.

i remembered

my phone died, my body aches so bad, so much work to do, i can't get out of bed and I have to pick up all these little pieces in time for tomorrow. It's almost halloween, we're costumeless, eventless because there are so many, I hate being 19 in the city and my period should come soon. Also, I cannot buy any more cameras, or a scanner, because i m -2.

blame

I hate long hard fights over absolutely nothing.

black

illustrations by Stephanie Daoud

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It rained

I don't really like it when it rains just when I'm about to head out for my midterm exam, or wait for twenty minutes for the cab in the rain, realize I've forgotten to print out my lamp design two minutes before class, and panic that I have insufficient time for the midterm assignments. I dread midterm wk. I cried because of midterms. I hate midterms. I hate art midterms.

merging tattoo thighs and live paint

Recently I have been thinking of getting a scanner, but amidst saving up for a weekend gateaway to another bustling city or going crazy shopping on weekends, I don't have much hope. I've been to New York twice, at least when I could vividly remember emotions and taut memories, but I still have a yearning to live there. I'm not sure if this desire is manifested by lust of the city or shining lights4ever. I tend to cling onto this memory of sunlight beaconing into the glass windows on the twenty fourth floor, or when I reach the lobby and smell the dirty, fresh air of NYC, I will crumble at the sights of the neon lights each begging for my attention.

I think hearts speak a soul like we can never replace with words.

This weekend I have done nothing. I've put off the visits to the museums, shopping, movie outings, and have just been staying home, perfecting my sandwich making/ asian styles sweet bread and I can really say I feel a sense of numbness.

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unai

A rush to the head and I find myself stumbling for words at such an awkward moment, could I lie again? I've been doing it for so long we should all be used to it now. I play the game like the others but it is far too distracting when you hear them recite words of wisdom practiced in front of the mirror to entice everyone else that they are true. All along this, I don't really care anymore. I know I used to, and sometimes I still do but we are merely practicing common courtesy like long lost friends reuniting after mistakes made.

I cover up all these awkwardness by playing it cool; stroking her hair, clutching onto the coffee cup, licking my lips like I really don't care but you hope I do and I know I do inside. I've never thought its easy to forget the first, but I've undermined your existence by thinking it would be so easy to throw you out like I've done so many times before. Our paths constantly cross like they will in the future because our choices are always intertwined, and I know I still have to prove myself to you. It never matters how the progression of the battle goes because when I win at the end, I always feel like I've lost. I've never thought of coming in second to you, because that might be so ideal. I've pushed myself so I'll never stay in the shadow of your inadequacy. And inside, I am merely crumbling with everyone else around me I cling on to. I lie back with a hunch, the mug in my hand. As the steam rises, the aroma floats around and I always, always hope you are looking at me and hoping I am thinking of you.

I don't think I will ever get better.

supersoakerweekend

This weekend has treated me so well I can't even remember what I did for three days before Saturday. Perhaps it is ridiculous for me to jump so quickly at this new enjoyable newfound sidekicks that we've all developed but I think it really beats having to worry about the fickle minds of everyone else around. The B-Boy; now Biscuit boy and Andrew came to town yesterday afternoon and all of us went to watch Paranormal Activity at Matreon. It was so enjoyable seeing the boys act stupid (as stupid as I really am on the inside) and make fun of demons. Biscuit boy did windmills and flares whilst popping and locking before we went to kefeske for a late supper. Nineteen eighty eight had a very adorable (little friend) of a lighter which I really wanted because it seemed so magical. It was so small that he couldn't get it out of his (tight) pants after getting high on the night of lovefest. If we ate two eighths or more, I would've gone crazy with the twirling of both of my hands instead of one. Both Derrek and Biscuit boy showed off their skillz giving us a little taste of their very different talents. Biscuit boy became slightly wired after eating half the set of biscuits at dinner. I adore seeing them go all crazy, eating like they're never gonna get it again. Darin got two dollar weed from the guy outside and carried it in his palm till we walked back to the building. The security guard did give us a look when the six of us came back. After which followed, ten minute random naps, street fighter, me getting my ass whooped, the boyz playing fight night 4, me thinking I almost won nineteen eighty eight the first time I play the game, but I lost anyway at the third round, ten round fight nights btw biscuit boy and andrew, pineapple express till four in the morning and finally crumbling onto the bed. And the zzz which followed the mundane late afternoon after lunch with the boyz at Kantanaya. Biscuit and Andrew dropped Darin, Hunter and I at Noah's for Jose's birthday party. The outdoor fireplace is wicked. We're all wicked. Sweet.

Eclipse

10am. Rinse. Water. Drip. Dry. Sparkle. Dry. Dry. Dry. Ache. Play. Dress. Go. Go. Hunter. Go. 14. Sunny. Thunder. Stairs. 2nd. Move. Move. Hat. Scream. Sunnier. Pack. Clothes. Desperate. Camera. Money. Lv. Itch. Yam. Hyped. Lovefest. Keys. Lock Lock. Virgin Mary. Bloody hell. Afternoon Run. Van Ness. Backpacks. Shit. Summer. Sutter. 620. Candy. Glasses. Korean. Thin. Avenue. Hills. Down. Up. Down. Stumble for the keys. Magic. Appearance. Darin. Ice. Time. 2. 3. Cash. 45. Set up. Aura Lamp. Night. Toby. Liz. Weed shirt. Green is the way to go. Wallet Packed. 15. Thousands. Molly. Small little packages. Ready? Ready. Socks. Shoe. Keys. Cash. Hype. Geary. Tenderloin. Pizza. Famous. Consume. Walk. Civic Center/ City Hall. Barricades. Caged up. 10. 20. Line. Go. Wonder. Trucks. Fluids. Ten-Thousand. Water. Beer. Hippies. unHomeless. Sunny. Tranny. Naked. Hype. Hype. Hype. Hype. Homework. Dreams. Searching for treasure. Darin. Crowd. Candy Hunter Denise. Back. Crowd. Push. Nuts. Lost. Water. Molly. Once. Break. Twice. Search. Darin. Ambulance. Lost. unFound. Scissors Paper Stone. Hunter. Stone. Right. Dance. In. Light. Shade. Out. Rave. Girls. Sweet Mother of Pearl. xtc. move bitch get outta the way. 2.5 hrs go go go go go rush like I've never rushed b4. Summer. Winter, we didn't care. we went, we saw, we got high. Alone around people. 2.5 hrs. go go go. Calming. Search. D. Brianna. Search more. None. Fuck. Text. Hope. We need it. Gave up. Geary. Hyde. Brianna's. Peona. Trevor. Toms. Shiny. I know. Nice. Happy Seth. Text. Four Eighths. See. Understand. Here. No. Excuses. Refusal. Geary. L. Wait. 1.5. 2. Fuck. Wait. Hunter. 8th floor. 1 hour. Happy Seth. Elevator. 606. Something. Shrooms. Go. Go. Wallgreens. Chocolate. Krispies. Orangina. Vitamin water. Calpico. Consume. Hit. fifteen. Candy. Fat. Sideways. Darin. Bed. Drunk. Weed. Double. Lights. Shiny. Hallucinations. On- off. On- Off. Am I peeing on someone's bed? Do I know what is really going on? The feeling stays the same. Lights. Pixels. unImages. On off. Click Clock the ticking clock. Double. Cap. 4 songs. Cigarettes that last forever. Fish eye lens. Circular room. Two in one. Complain. Good Trip Good Trip. Calm down. 4 hours/5 hours/6 hours and the ache begins...

Numbers, Pixels & Colors

There was flashing, thousands of lights beaming down from the ceiling, the urge to focus disappeared and delayed time reaction began. The aura lamp we bought worked like thunder and lightning exploding into the sky. My world burst into a million colors, each yearning for my attention and I craved for more. The feeling was like no other; so slow to move, dizzy spells controlled my every movement and each signal took years to comprehend. He closed his eyes and the hearts melted into hands, red droplets confounding the tears into dreams; an urge to remain sane took me over and it felt the same way for as long as it stood. Pixels and halftone seemed to surround the room. A curve was created and I lived in a circle; a fisheye lens curved each image and made everything more fuzzy, more love-able. A song lasted for a thousand years, the cigarette even longer; it felt so right, the boys said. Never in my life had I wanted to smoke more; the light from the fuzzy warm ash left a trail of light so beautiful like the awaited aperture in the lens. we complained like babies pining for mummy's breast. We hurled into a world that was solely ours, we had nothing to mention, only actions to make. My hands grew downwards, a step back in time as it erupted into merely nothing, thousands of wrinkles formed like the branches of a tree in a matter of seconds and I ached for more fear. My heart swallowed itself and my brain did no thinking. Ancient African symbols, colors and dances surrounded the wall and I threw my pupils in every direction to consume this emotion. The ceiling danced with their own beat, each mandala and symmetrical design weaved in and out like the tips of a sewing machine, with such rhythm the colors morphed into one of its own, blurring the light instantly. Visually impaired, each touch kiss poke flick came before sight and the numbness of everything began. Biting, hitting, slapping felt so wonderful when the nerves couldn't tell right from wrong. Conversations repeated hundreds of times, an echo of each put thoughts in my brain; déjà vu. I couldn't tell if I was touching myself or someone else; I saw the same things over and over. A room split into two when the lights fought each other, one eventually empowering the other as the room blackened into nothingness. It felt like forever, my ache for the sun to rise began so quickly I forgot how long it actually was. Calming down was the hardest part, it was like eating your own eyeball over and over and over again, regurgitating it over and over to let it bubble in your stomach acid. It felt like you grew a new head; a new brain, but I know it never grows back the same.