Vaguebook
Sad people listen to sad music. It's fun to wallow. It's cathartic. Contrapoints went over this recently. I don't remember what she said because I have a very bad memory and I miss the point for the aesthetic. I mostly remember her singing Hello Darkness My Old Friend. I don't think she actually discussed sad people and sad music in depth...but like I said, I'm shallow and I'm in it for the lewk. I wasn't that into the lewk this episode, so I remember even less.
So much of this is half-jokes to make myself seem desperately unappealing, you know. I find myself wholly unappealing and this is just one long unnecessary advertisement making the case for that fact. In essence. There's other stuff, sure, but at the end of the day it's a story about cannibalism and suicide through the coercion of a lover into drowning me. If I were more literate it would be all angst and ultraviolence. Drink the milk and kill, children, because our rich daddies don't pay enough attention to our ennui.
I've been listening to Elliott Smith, Sufjan Stevens and Neutral Milk Hotel. In a faucet spout I thought I saw you and I almost passed out. There was a moment of frenzy where I couldn't be sure whether you were coming for me or I was becoming you...and this is how I know I should not watch Hannibal for a while. It's the only thing that makes me whole.
Ryan and I decided to get Killing Eve tattoos. I have never really wanted a tattoo- there's nothing I've really cared for enough, maybe sailor moon? That fanaticism is largely exaggerated, though. "Sorry Baby x" is just so perfect, though. It's so innocuous at face value, maybe a even out of context a little cheeky, but I don't think I would have expected it to be the defining scene of the show. And I have the perfect place in mind- somewhere along the pelvis. Like a welcome sign to my sex organs. Population: 30 dead souls. Sorry baby- x. My vagina has so much to apologize for, and yet it would never do so in earnest.
This brought up an uncomfortable realization though- beyond the fact that I will need to find opiates to take before this mission is completed because I fucking hate needles. I should have a Hannibal tattoo if I'm going to have a Killing Eve tattoo. Not only is it formative to me, I feel like it's kind of formative to Killing Eve...so, it has to be done.
I can't think of what to get, though. There's no short thing as iconic as Sorry Baby...maybe "This is my design" but that would be just the worst. Like, I'm already fucking terrible and pretentious, but that would be a permanent declaration of it...and if there's to be a permanent declaration of it, I want it to be this. Live forever on the internet, my lovely delusion of grandeur~
Hannibal says a lot about love- I have considered trying to comb through all of that. Another option was "god forbid we become friendly," which feels like another honest communication of my intentions to the world. I think I never liked the idea of tattoos before because I could never think of a physical thing that would permanently express how someone should absorb me as a person. I'm not a sleeve of flowers or a dragon on the hip. I'm not a giant raspberry bug across the chest. I am a very often upset and softly confrontational person. I'm incredibly passive aggressive if given the opportunity. Being stamped "PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE" would be entirely too aggressive, though. So that might be it. It feels almost as right as the other.
I also briefly considered a pair of antlers- but then I considered people might just assume I hunt. I would hate to be found dead and naked in the forest and have the group that found me assume it was a hunting accident. If instead on my rib-cage it said "when feasible, one should eat the rude" it would be abundantly clear that I was either murdered or wandered into the woods on methamphetamines.
I think it has to be something Hannibal says, too. I may identify with Will more, but that's a sad perspective and full of sad statements. If I wanted to mark myself in sadness I'd just do a better job at self-harming.
Anyway, this is all because I need to find a second job. The nicer seeming Universities don't like it when you don't pay attention to them, so like a petulant boyfriend, they make sure you have to prioritize your day around them. "If you want to see me, then you'll have to make the time!!" they shout, slamming doors, pouting and huffing about. They demand money and time with no assurance that you'll get anything back. I'm pretty sure I'll have to pay for the paper in the end, too. I guess, if it matters? Can I just not get the paper? I suppose I'll have to look into it...but in the meantime I have the bigger problem of not being able to keep a well-paying day job because asshole business schools mandate classes during the day. You can go to graduate school and law school evenings and weekends, but god help you if you didn't have some sort of savings to pay for all your shit and your tuition for 4 years. Maybe I'm the only one this is hard for...a lot of my classmates seem to have to work, too. If I weren't so prissy I could just do whatever at Walmart, I guess. I'm not made of the right stuff, it seems. Just sad songs and a piteous sense of joy when it rains after I've been sobbing in my car for a full half hour.
A couple of tattoos are just the investment to turn this all around. Tattoos only appreciate when you walk off the lot. Like buying a house, you're building equity!
Well, I have to study statistics now...I have two weeks to teach myself enough that I don't completely fail, because I can't, because that will be another semester behind...
I just wanted to express myself without vague booking about my break-down.
So much of this is half-jokes to make myself seem desperately unappealing, you know. I find myself wholly unappealing and this is just one long unnecessary advertisement making the case for that fact. In essence. There's other stuff, sure, but at the end of the day it's a story about cannibalism and suicide through the coercion of a lover into drowning me. If I were more literate it would be all angst and ultraviolence. Drink the milk and kill, children, because our rich daddies don't pay enough attention to our ennui.
I've been listening to Elliott Smith, Sufjan Stevens and Neutral Milk Hotel. In a faucet spout I thought I saw you and I almost passed out. There was a moment of frenzy where I couldn't be sure whether you were coming for me or I was becoming you...and this is how I know I should not watch Hannibal for a while. It's the only thing that makes me whole.
Ryan and I decided to get Killing Eve tattoos. I have never really wanted a tattoo- there's nothing I've really cared for enough, maybe sailor moon? That fanaticism is largely exaggerated, though. "Sorry Baby x" is just so perfect, though. It's so innocuous at face value, maybe a even out of context a little cheeky, but I don't think I would have expected it to be the defining scene of the show. And I have the perfect place in mind- somewhere along the pelvis. Like a welcome sign to my sex organs. Population: 30 dead souls. Sorry baby- x. My vagina has so much to apologize for, and yet it would never do so in earnest.
This brought up an uncomfortable realization though- beyond the fact that I will need to find opiates to take before this mission is completed because I fucking hate needles. I should have a Hannibal tattoo if I'm going to have a Killing Eve tattoo. Not only is it formative to me, I feel like it's kind of formative to Killing Eve...so, it has to be done.
I can't think of what to get, though. There's no short thing as iconic as Sorry Baby...maybe "This is my design" but that would be just the worst. Like, I'm already fucking terrible and pretentious, but that would be a permanent declaration of it...and if there's to be a permanent declaration of it, I want it to be this. Live forever on the internet, my lovely delusion of grandeur~
Hannibal says a lot about love- I have considered trying to comb through all of that. Another option was "god forbid we become friendly," which feels like another honest communication of my intentions to the world. I think I never liked the idea of tattoos before because I could never think of a physical thing that would permanently express how someone should absorb me as a person. I'm not a sleeve of flowers or a dragon on the hip. I'm not a giant raspberry bug across the chest. I am a very often upset and softly confrontational person. I'm incredibly passive aggressive if given the opportunity. Being stamped "PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE" would be entirely too aggressive, though. So that might be it. It feels almost as right as the other.
I also briefly considered a pair of antlers- but then I considered people might just assume I hunt. I would hate to be found dead and naked in the forest and have the group that found me assume it was a hunting accident. If instead on my rib-cage it said "when feasible, one should eat the rude" it would be abundantly clear that I was either murdered or wandered into the woods on methamphetamines.
I think it has to be something Hannibal says, too. I may identify with Will more, but that's a sad perspective and full of sad statements. If I wanted to mark myself in sadness I'd just do a better job at self-harming.
Anyway, this is all because I need to find a second job. The nicer seeming Universities don't like it when you don't pay attention to them, so like a petulant boyfriend, they make sure you have to prioritize your day around them. "If you want to see me, then you'll have to make the time!!" they shout, slamming doors, pouting and huffing about. They demand money and time with no assurance that you'll get anything back. I'm pretty sure I'll have to pay for the paper in the end, too. I guess, if it matters? Can I just not get the paper? I suppose I'll have to look into it...but in the meantime I have the bigger problem of not being able to keep a well-paying day job because asshole business schools mandate classes during the day. You can go to graduate school and law school evenings and weekends, but god help you if you didn't have some sort of savings to pay for all your shit and your tuition for 4 years. Maybe I'm the only one this is hard for...a lot of my classmates seem to have to work, too. If I weren't so prissy I could just do whatever at Walmart, I guess. I'm not made of the right stuff, it seems. Just sad songs and a piteous sense of joy when it rains after I've been sobbing in my car for a full half hour.
A couple of tattoos are just the investment to turn this all around. Tattoos only appreciate when you walk off the lot. Like buying a house, you're building equity!
Well, I have to study statistics now...I have two weeks to teach myself enough that I don't completely fail, because I can't, because that will be another semester behind...
I just wanted to express myself without vague booking about my break-down.
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