The heart wants what the heart wants

It's amazing what a couple of years can do to you. Like 16 year old me was smitten with, well I just looked up at my Beatles poster so lets call him John, now I should start off by saying that John has pretty much no idea that I exist. On with the story, 16 year old John had the most Dope Ass Swagger of any boy I seen up to that point. Whenever he would get within 10 feet of me Discovery's 'Osaka Loop Line' would play in my head and my heart would pound like an 808. But I saw John in passing recently, and all I though was Eehhh. He was still attractive of course, I mean sure, but he lost his mojo. he just didn't walk the same (maybe he did, but I remember him a certain way so maybe, just maybe, he never actually moonwalked or two stepped down the halls but hey, it's my memory, that's how I choose to remember it, okay?) Could be just me but it's more likely that John lost his groove. He use to so fresh, so fine, like everyday just blow my mind (shut up.) Two years ago, he had the flyest kicks EVER! Yet in our brief encounter I barely glanced at his feet (and I am a sneakerhead, shoe fetishist in general, but a sneakerhead in particular. So not drooling over his Supras is Gasp worthy). Honestly what about young Johnny had changed? NOTHING! (or so one good friend assured me) It was me! In the time that I had gone off to school and come home, (even in the age of social networking) I had forgotten about John.
...... Now I don't really know what my point is in all of this..... maybe that when we grow up people change, for the better or for worse, you just have to learn to roll with it. Sometimes you'll be disappointed (I know I was. John was the hottest thing of life.) but you can't write anyone else's story. Just your own. So Live Your Life. yeah, yeah that's it.

Don't worry Cory Monteith, I'll always love you

We are all Charlie

At what point do you begin to believe your public persona?
We are all apart of your demise,
And it's nearly visible the way your ego swells to an unthinkable size,
Believing the people and Rolling Stone magazine and all their lies,
Through their grit teeth and the cries
Who do you think you are?

You've fallen from grace you narcissist.
Heretic!
Fame Whore!
You Overlord!

No one believes your deception,
Not even you.
GIVE IT UP!

And you still can't see,
Through your lack of will to be,
You are not he,
Thee of thee,
You are not the bringer of truth.

You are not mighty,
You are not holy,
And no one loves you,
Or cares what you do,
Though they patronize and coo,
You are alone,
We are all alone.

This is empty,
We all are.
The media drains our souls.

No individualism,
In this Capitalism,
Watch your true self die.
As they shove more and more of their cameras in your face.

Society ripping at the seams.
Living in empty shells,
As our egos swell,
*POP*
We burst,
But it's only in Black and White,
Our colors are gone.

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Chaos Of The Mind

A post that is essentially about nothing, Yet is filled with so much

Never quite knowing what to say but having so much happening in the mind. Story of my life.

SO...

What do you when the weather outside is frightful?

Me? A self confessed homebody, Rather than face the cold harsh rain I'll read a book, make some tea, watch a fabulous movie.

The Pink Panther

Claudia Cardinale was such a classic beauty but this films best feature is Peter Sellers (at his comedic best in my opinion*) The remake was so disappointing but the original is still one of my all time favourites.

*Yes Sellers has his dramatic best as well that's next 

Lolita

How did they ever make a movie of Lolita?

Another favourite (as is the novel it's based on). I'm an absolute sucker for black and white. And Sellers as Clare Quilty adds just enough comic relief

Valley of the Dolls

Although the film is wonderfully glamourous, I'm a much bigger fan of the book following 3 young women in show buisness - and well, you should just read it when you get a chance.

When you're sick and it's terrible weather Guilty TV is so wonderful if you possess a television then you might find the insane exploits of this family as amusing as my family does.

And now to counteract the stupid, some political comedy

Mars is already red

OH!

My BFF wrote this little bit of fantastic:

Dear Wife-Love-Bromeo-Darling,
You are the Fred to my Ethel,
The Blair to my Serena,
The Cher to my Dionne,
and the legendary to my Barney Stinson.
...I just love your style
and how pretty you are.
I can't stand us being so far..
But all is fair in love and war .
Which is why I'm coming home to the west coast.
We all know it's the best coast.

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY*

* Yeah this post had nothing

 really to do with St. Valentine's Day.

And if you don't like you can shove off.

The Hardest Part Of Breaking Up Is Getting Back Your Stuff

"Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned
 Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned."
-  William Congreve's The Mourning Bride

RAWR!

Despite the above quote and all I did not just get dumped. In fact I had the extremely glorious task of letting another person know, that despite his wishes, he and I will not be getting married any time soon.

What I really want to know is why is it that when it comes to calling it quits girls get the rep for turning to crying, whining, alanis morissette playing, crazy ass emotional bitches?

Because boys have the capacity to turn into crazy, clingy nut jobs as well, who end up blaming your lack of returned phone calls and newly filed restraining orders on "Fear of Commitment"

...I'm rambling again.

I have a point I promise, What I think that Point is... Plently of women use their sexuality freely (like so many young men do without redicule), and I have met more than enough young men that whimper and send crazy stalker texts that would put off the most commitment oriented young woman.

So why the need to label one sex as needy, and the other as liberated when I'm about to get super hippie love right here everyone is individual.

Anywho, my brief rant for today about boys acting like stereotypes of girls La-Dee-Da

When I Grow Up I Wanna Be Famous, I Wanna Be A Star...

Bonne soirée

"HUH?!" has a makeover I think it's possible I'm growing up, I'll stop typing while you call the press.............

Good?

Okay so I have had NO idea what to blog about lately, but recently my young life and what damn direction I'm going to take it in is becoming a constant plague on my fragile mind. So instead of drowning my sorrows in bottles of champagne and watching Tiffany's on a loop, I'm going to dump all of my insecurities on you World Wide Web YAY!!!!

Onward we go then, as a young woman in her late teens I feel a suffocating amount of pressure to try and figure out in a span of four year what the hell I'm going to do with the next FIFTY YEARS OF MY LIFE!! I'm starting to look like poor Norma Desmond, slowly slipping into madness for a completely different reason.

"I'm ready for my close up Mr. Demille"

In all seriousness though, I've dreamt for years of being a Screenwriter/Director, being able to conceptualize a story and bring it to life, following the likes of Billy Wilder, Woody Allen, Quentin Tarantino, Sofia Coppola.. and really the list goes on and on. Men and women with extraordinary vision that bring to life stories that came from imagination. I could gush about Coppola alone for hours. The way her art films parallel her own Hollywood royal life. She admits freely that quite a lot is based on the people that surround her, even if the charicature isn't exactly flattering (she admits that the neglectful husband John in Lost in Translation is a mean-spirited portrayal of ex-husband Spike Jonze) but that's slightly off topic. What I'm trying to get at is when you're a little kid everyone is constantly reaffirming that you can be anything you want to be, but when you get older it becomes apparent that following through with your dreams isn't as easy as wishing, hoping, and praying.

Do you know how many pages the average movie script is? 120.  Mhmm, yeah. Which is hunky dory, so you write a full length feature, but what if it isn't any good? No one likes it... and you have to do it all over again, new concept, new characters. See what I mean? I'm slowly but surely losing it. Where's the Dom Pérignon? What have I gotten myself into? A life set up for failure. Maybe I should just do ass my mother says and become a librarian. OR OR I can perservere. Believe in my dream and, well, what I guess what all this rambling was getting towards was:

اتبع قلبك

Follow Your Heart

What I'm slowly beginning to realize is that all the Harvard professors and parental barbing in the world can't teach me passion. That most people feel that growing up is forgetting everything we really want and settling for what others feel we should want. I think that dreams keep the creative soul alive. In another way if your parents told you that you couldn't be with the one you love because they think there's someone out there that you don't like as much but probably offers more financial security, I highly doubt you'd listen.

I sure as fuck wouldn't.

I'm afraid to become an adult without dreams