It's Cold. It Feels Like Independence Day.

SHOES FOR SALE!

Fri, 12 Jun 2009 06:24:30 GMT

SHOES FOR SALE!
BRAND NEW/WORN ONCE.

1. CHARLOTTE RUSSE PURPLE SUEDE PUMPS

Brand new, never worn!
Beautiful purple suede w/ black patent leather accents.
(FYI- The shoes appear exactly as I purchased them. Any scuffs or stitching problems in the patent leather are from the manufacturer.)

Size: 7
$7

2. NEWPORT NEWS GRAY SUEDE BOOTS

Brand new, never worn!
Top-quality gray suede boots w/ knit fold-over sweater-like tops.
Look great over skinny jeans or with tights.
(FYI- Newport News is a brand I can always count on for quality and durability.)

Size: 7
$15

3. NEWPORT NEWS BABY PINK LACE-UP BALLET FLATS

Brand new, never worn!
Unique baby pink suede flats w/ ribbon laces.
A small brown heel give these flats a slight lift.
Ribbons can be tied up the entire calf, or slouched low at the ankle.

Size: 7
$10

4. CHARLOTTE RUSSE BROWN SUEDE + CORK PUMPS

Only worn once!
Trendy chocolate brown suede w/cork heels.
Elastic support allows for more comfort and longevity.
Slight wearing on soles from an afternoon of use.

Size: 7
$7

5. OLD NAVY WHITE + PRINTED SANDALS

Brand new, never worn!
A trendier approach to the flip flop, but stays on your feet with comfortable bend.
Waterproof material.

Size: 7
$5

Any questions are welcome!
I accept cash or cashiers checks.

Comment if interested!
(My shipping address will be given in comments.)

goodbye, hello.

Sun, 07 Jun 2009 23:01:32 GMT

I've graduated high school.
Goodbye to many chapters that have been read and experienced, yet now slip from my mind.
It is time for the present. The golden textures of summer painting a screen before my eyes already.
Love and lore... it's all happening.

Photoblog: oh_nebula

cobwebs.

Mon, 27 Apr 2009 02:09:07 GMT

It has been ages; many moons we have seen. Many colors and shapes surrounding my skin, brushing my hair, painting my irises into kaleidoscopes.
And yet, through the energies and seasons, the heartaches and unreasons, he has still been there.
He still pollinates my sheets with the perfume of his scent.
He is impulsive and wild like the wind. I set the war paint on my skin, masking my pallid palate, creating new identities with mascara and powders, until I heard the knocking upon my door.
He stood there, ill with a cold, crawling up towards my bedroom, telling me to find a dress because he was taking me out to dinner. His chariot is black and familiar, the music set to my favorite songs. I am in love and I will always be.

oh_nebula
(I am here.)

her eyes as vacant as the sea.

Sun, 21 Sep 2008 14:29:07 GMT

The sun still shines in fall.
I feel my skin basking in its paradoxes.
In seven days I will wear my Betsey Johnson dress and smell like velvety woods and lavender.
I will eat gourmet food and stare into eyes of someone I cannot fathom exists.
Before my night of luxe, I will listen to a journalist and an author speak.

I will make it a goal of mine to see fall as a romantic season.
I will clean my surroundings and only keep clutter when it decorates, not disguises.

I will eat expensive chocolate and drink expensive wine and no one will care because I have been welcomed. I will dance with my lover and be one entity by the starlight of the morning hours.
Things are looking up, and I can only hope that they will remain to be as beautiful.

euphoria morning.

Tue, 17 Jun 2008 18:15:20 GMT

I let myself believe that it was hopeless, that the rut of all ruts bestowed upon me... on a very special day. I woke up freezing and lonely and breakfast felt like death.
I turned on The Sugarcubes and New Wave and looked at every item of clothing that had gathered on my floor. I have tons and tons of gorgeous dresses. Material that is lighter than layers of skin, fabric that feels like milk running through my fingers. It made me realize that life can be beautiful, even for a moment. I threw myself down onto my white and aqua sheets and counted my breaths as a chilly breeze swam through the window and combed my hair.
It was then that my lover called me, and I felt my eyes stop burning and start lighting up like a child's. I realized that I do not need dependence, nor do I need to thrive on the loathing of people. People that are so much like me.

Last night my love and I sunk into the depths of our friend's basement where orgies and laughter set the night in stone. It has been exactly one year with him, and I cannot think of a better way to celebrate than to completely lose my mind and ball my eyes out... then to turn it all around and watch the craziest and most illuminated night unfold.
My emotions have been buzzing around me at lightning speed, but I think I have finally found the answer.
Step back and observe the canvas of life instead of thirsting for it.
Moments will come to you and I, and we all must learn to seek the beauty in them.
Dwelling on what we lack will not lead us any closer to the treasure.
Finding life's gem, accidentally, is what the hunt is all about.

b.

Like sex and violence. Like death and silence.

Sat, 19 Apr 2008 03:47:06 GMT

For right now, my surroundings are too beautiful to keep stored in my brain.
As of right now, I am capturing them and all that I see.

You can catch my photo blog at oh_nebula.

Yours,
Brittany.

Your ocean spreads out on sunbeams, radiant, knowing.

Sat, 01 Mar 2008 23:18:15 GMT

From my view, the snow is white and blinding. Nothing but Donner Party landscapes and blank neon patterns holding still. A small black cat is the juxtaposition crawling low between little glaciers of bluish snow. When the white powder piles higher and higher onto the ground, I find it oddly comforting the way this can have a double meaning. When snow fills the concrete and the streets and the phantom grass, I feel lonely like a child feels when she can't find her mother in a crowded department store.
I feel lost and hopeless in a drunk debutant kind of way. I know that the world I see before me is new, exciting, and overflowing with opportunity for me, the wayward kid on the brink of adulthood.
But still I feel sad, and I cannot place the reasons why. When I dig into my Freud-found parts, I think that maybe I am scared. Nervous about the future and second guessing my instinct.
I never thought I would find comfort in a person, a grotesque notion I have always loathed.
I never thought I would feel so completely taken aback by the way a person moves and speaks and blinks. But I do, and this troubles me. It is will be so hard to be away from them. As days collect, the connection strengthens, and it seems like we will be living together and exploring together so soon.
Then I rewind the tape and remember that I will be flying, and they will remain stagnant in their suburban home. This makes me sad for him, and grossly sad for myself.
I considered staying in this state for a year and waiting for him to finish high school. I know it sounds terrible to hinder myself of living in my dreamland, but I know these dreams will be diminished the first time I pass hipsters and Louis Vuitton-clad mommies. I will grow to loathe the city I love based only on history.
So why not stay for one short year? Get my feet wet in the waters of Liberal Arts, then learn to swim in the city which will act as my safe, solemn womb. I may consider Oberlin for that test run. I have to decide.
I do not want to stay in the buckeye state where my family resides in their comfortable, safe environment. I do not want to become as ignorant and neglectful as they have become.
But if it means waiting for what is good to me now, maybe I will. Then again, maybe I will become tough and reclusive in another place. It is a paradox that I need to unwind so that I can live my life and remember who I am.

Like a lizard on a window pane.

Sun, 13 Jan 2008 03:35:16 GMT

I can't help but feel empty after being so full up. It all comes as a rush, its vibrancy blinding me and making my teeth show. After it's over and no one is home, the colors become basic and my body is just another piece of furniture. I can dance with the most poignant of form and I know how to close my eyes and sink into everything I am feeling. I can sit alone with my thoughts, my memories, my dreams for later. Yet I still feel cold and tired and incomplete. Where is my missing piece, and why was it taken from me? I have always been whole, I have always been the complete picture. But I have lost a fragment somewhere along the way, somewhere amidst the streets I walk along everyday.
I think this is what it means to finally be open, to finally let someone slip in and make you feel something. Every time I am with him I forget about what is happening outside in the war zone. I swim into my sheets and I smile up to the forgotten light and I don't want to leave and I can't leave. I blink days later and realize that I have progressed into the future, and I am bombarded with concerns I give no thought to. All I care about is being irresponsible and naive, and I can't seem to put any thought into 2+2 or je m'appelle horrible.

I was the girl in the front row of the ska band, the girl changing her shirt in public, the girl not caring that her mom was sleeping downstairs. It was all in one day, and days like this are a beautiful whir and it's a harsh, harsh comedown when it's all said and done.
So I sit, waiting for the next time I can throw the world away like sad words on a ball of paper. I wait for the next time I can stop walking around with him trying not to let my magnetic limbs go where they whisper they want to go.

I am not used to being in such a good place.

our bed we live, our bed we sleep. making love and I become you.

Fri, 23 Nov 2007 00:04:12 GMT

It is difficult for me to think of things I am thankful for, because I am convinced I could fill up an entire volume. At the same time I would be staring blankly in my own eyes searching for suggestions. When I look outside, I am searching. The sky was white as snow, gray as smoke. There is smoke swirling to the sky like we are all seeking for spirits. Snow is stuck like crystal leeches on automobiles in the city. The ground is covered with a neon orange of leaves falling from trees I've been convinced were dying. Funny how things come alive.
Music has been flooding my ears, wreaking havoc on the parts of me that wish to hum in silence. I am serenaded by everything and it is so perfect. I've given up on others, and I've taken in some like they are candy and I have lost it.

I'm glad I am spinning around in the fresh air again. For a second I thought I'd gone crazy.

I was published in the November '07 issue of Teen Ink.
You can read the published review HERE.

We stepped into the wind - he had a gun, I had a grin.

Sat, 20 Oct 2007 01:13:03 GMT

It isn't difficult to escape the wind when you build up a sturdy cuccoon of objects. Films, books, and music rest in stacks on the cool floor of my bedroom. I want to experience everything. I want to fall in love with something again.
I have been so busy, I almost feel like I am a different person. I tag along with this girl, this strange girl who has joined clubs and goes to the same coffee shop everyday, and I feel like I am caught there; chained to her feet and growing very tired. Not to mention burdensome. But this is me, and these are the two shades of my mind lately. Last year it was so easy to avoid everyone and read a book a day. It was so easy to sit home and think about history and Kant and finches if I wanted to. It's more difficult now.
I learn so much, and I want to keep it all in, I want to really enjoy it. But the passion is slipping as papers pile in front of me and my novels get hidden under carbon copies of the same lost dream.

However, I have grown in some ways, as I write so much more that isn't a foul-smelling rambling that spills from nowhere. I write fiction, I write reviews, and I write essays that mean something to me. I feel my voice shaping and my opinions breaking through the chrysalis.
Newspaper has helped me in some ways, giving me a real medium to and a real deadline to spill out something genuine. I suppose it's nice to hear people who've read your article. Not that the notoriety is something I can say I wish to have. But recognition is often the kick one needs to jump a bit higher.

I have been trying to get out more, and I don't just mean from school to work and all places in between. I gave in and started in-car, so hopefully I can finally be alone for a while to finish all that I've started. I really feel my life narrowing into the size of a cubicle or a panic room. I really wish I could spread my wings outside of this little bubble. I need to meet more people, maybe.

Well at any rate, a few exciting things have happened, so it isn't all a standard teenage sigh.
I became Vice President of Students Active For The Environment, which I am excited about.
A Halloween story I wrote might get in the school paper with a few others, but I'm not entirely sure yet, so I'm not counting on it. I do, however, have to produce a drawing that goes with it. Should be interesting.

Oh, and... I met Amy Sedaris!!

She gave me a free magic fairy wand, told me she liked my hair, and signed her book for me. It was fantastic!

Bridget, Carolyn, Dylan, and I created those excellent themed turkeys in Art Club. We're selling 'em.

Carly, me, Carolyn @ football game.

This kid Joe (front) was hilarious. We convinced him he was going to be on Mtv.

We airbrushed "Hot Cheeks" on his booty.

Tomorrow means:
PSAT
Book Sale @ library
Video sale @ Hollywood Video
Thrift store (for Halloween costumes)
One week until my party!

-Brittany.

Thursday afternoon, you cast a shadow 'round my room.

Thu, 20 Sep 2007 02:13:44 GMT

The weather is getting colder, the way it feels when everything I experience blends together in this snowglobe of time I wish I didn't lose. My bedroom lies at the highest point in my house, and when the wind blows it circles in and out of each window freezing the wooden floors and planting a perfume of maple and pine all throughout. The season brings back time I'd like to forget, but in a sense I wish I could remember so deeply. Last year was a time of firsts, which lead to the Spring of lasts. I wonder if the burnt colors and open air will spark a year that is entirely new for me.
I can't say that I've grown in my Junior year, but perhaps the aspect of growth is something that can only be observed through reflection. For one thing, I haven't been this happy in a while. It's nice to realize that the ghosts of pale days have crept back to their place in my imagination, and I can live my life without the burden of some space in my brain creeping back up to spread its virus in the present.

There's something about Fall that makes me feel this way. It's often difficult to explain, the way feeling mesmerized is hard to explain. Working at the library has been great, and I've been putting so many items on hold that I've been waiting to experience. Walking around my neighborhood with the wind secreting the first scent of snow, listening to so much music. Polaris and R.E.M. define my kind of autumn.

The pumpkins have been places out on lawns... one of my favorite things to see. I don't know if it's childhood crawling back into my psyche again, but I get this christmas type of feeling when I see gourds and orange dots speckling the town. I smell rain and cider and something just triggers this instinct to leave my house and feel nature all over my skin and in my lungs.

I walked through Artapalooza last weekend, running my hands through stained glass shaped like jellyfish and feathers. Letting my eyes catch the rays reflected on the icy water of the pond in the center of the market. It felt like a trail I would find when I was small... maybe searching for ghosts inside hollow trees or in a thousand buried jars. I had an imagination then. Perhaps it comes back to find me when the sun goes down and the earth becomes so cold.

Next week should be good...
+The Office season 4 premiere
+Hayride
+Hike with Environment club
+The Melvins concert

B.

Ghostman, how come we get so lost?

Sat, 01 Sep 2007 16:59:42 GMT

It's hard to believe that things can change, they can mirror themselves as perfectly as matter but they are a parallel almost blinding to what makes you feel.
I can't believe how happy I've been inside of this completely normal jar. I am in a relationship that keeps going up and up like a swirling rocket or a note written on a balloon. There is something that is so different to me- no emotional meltdowns (from either party), no uncomfortable breaks in conversation or activity. No tension in the darkroom because I need the attention I'm not getting. Everything is just.. good. It's foreign but it makes me feel human, and I suppose that's what matters.

School has started, I've been aware that this is the year that matters, and I've been using my energy to experience, and not just to let words and time sink into me like a wall of absorption. I've been speaking up, offering opinions, and reading too many books. My classes are perfect for what interests me and what I am willing to take in.
I walk to work from school, so it's like this story book I can pull out from the depths of my memory.

I can't believe I'm joining clubs, have a boyfriend, and have a job I love at the library. This is like a shitty teenage series. I can't believe I like it so much.

Last night I went to the football game with Dylan (we'll call this book #8) which was a lot different than in middle school. I didn't feel this colorful blast of endorphins, but I didn't feel like the concrete the entire suburb walked upon. I just felt each step and each person I met and it was just really good. A new perspective on an old past time.
I saw someone from my past I don't care about anymore, who is dating/dated my neighbor, and I just avoided all of that. Instead I convinced a group of people I just met to walk over to the dark playground to swing.
It was a lot of fun, I met a really cool girl, and the grass was much longer than the city prefers. Something I appreciate.

Dylan.
(found some Smarties in the mulch of the playground. Can you spot them? Where's Waldo?)

Carolyn is a gem.
That is a cool hoodie.

Car wash.

Always the passenger, never the driver.
That's a lie because my In-Car guy called yesterday and heard my Pauly Shore voicemail recording.

Gypsy Gemini {a poem}

Sat, 11 Aug 2007 02:29:41 GMT

Cool blues
The rain gathered in tiny jars,
the ocean's everyday song,
his hands along the cellar walls.
She is sapphire
Eyes heavy like smoke
burning their fire to create
ashy nothings which fuel the music.
Dreams gathered in seams
Folded like paper cranes
in the blue atmosphere.
She is not alone.
Sisters dance in the moonlight,
their celestial fire haunting midnight.
Aquamarine and alice
the goddess waits by her madness.
Diamonds pool around the dust
of her gray eyes.
Sisters chime their serenade
gazing at life's tricky hand.
The royal fog of cloudy days
exposes blue dances
which crown their mermaid figures.
Forever gypsy hymns
Chime through our perception.

-Brittany.

PS: I created a journal to tie in with this one, a less inspired log of my days through pictures and basic thoughts.
Feel free to add it if you are interested in my lame life:
mothmoth

A college try gives me blisters.

Sat, 28 Jul 2007 03:46:45 GMT

What a whirlwind of a week!
I spent six days at an Honors Institute Workshop for Creative Writing at BGSU, and I feel so refreshed, experienced, and eager to keep learning. My entire world was college for this week. Finally I was able to walk around an inspiring town to my classes, passing sunflowers and jade-colored trees as I made my way past each beautiful building.
I learned so much, wrote some interesting things, and met some amazing people.
I was pleased that I finally got the chance to interact with pretty girls who only talk about interesting things like books and school. I thought those kinds of females only existed on Gilmore Girls or in books I've read. It was refreshing to meet people of value and intelligence.

It's difficult for me to explain my experience in great detail, so here are some pictures...

On the way there...

I'm a big fan of clouds, cloud pictures, imagining like a child that I can sleep on a cloud.

I also like pictures that reflect.

So I eventually get there...

I met my amazingly nice + smart roomate Katie...

(invisible bongos? :p)

I actually made some friends, believe it or not.

I think it was easy that we were all in the same boat, as in no one knew each other and weren't sure what the hell we were doing.
This is Rachel, Michelle, Katie, and me.

My favorite part of my stay there was visiting the greenhouse on campus.
It was beautiful. The interesting thing was that there were no "native" plants. They were all from other countries/states/environments.
The wonderfully knowledgeable professor of botany told me that the fig tree I was eying was used in Buddhist shrines. Apparently Buddha sat under a tree of this nature and reached Enlightenment.
Buddhists boil the leaves and dye them silver or gold to honor their faith.

The plants all had some kind of story.

star-shaped cacti! How cool.

B e a u t i f u l!

The sky before the storm.
That little blue dot at the bottom is actually a streetlight we could see from our room.
It projected a placid blue glow upon the sidewalk. I liked that.

From our window we could also see some guys in their rooms.
They were having duels.
Some were shirtless and cawing like crows.
They caught us spying and laughing in amazement of the hilarity, and called someone saying they had "stalkers."
More like an audience, but tomato tomahto.

Anyway.
The part I looked forward to each day was the walk to class.
It's a lengthy trek, but you get to pass some very interesting things like rabbis and this abstract statue of The Thinker...

Needless to say, I felt so inspired the entire time I was there. I couldn't stop writing.
We had conferences with whichever teacher we preferred to go over any of our work and chat.
I showed Karen (first name basis. I dig that.) a poem of mine, and she made me feel good about my style of writing. She also suggested books of poems to me, which I definitely appreciated.

It feels comforting to be home after so much excitement
and exertion of the mind and feet.
I was constantly tired,

but never felt depressed or on edge.
It was such a relief to interact with such interesting people and places.

Chameleon

Sun, 22 Jul 2007 05:13:49 GMT

I find myself going into situations where I think I'll be filled with resentment and loneliness, so I try to hide myself, my physical self, so I don't have to experience what I think will blacken my perception.
Tonight was like that. I assumed I would walk into my cousin's wedding a stranger, an alien to this tribe. Things changed abruptly. It wasn't a day for me to be noticed or to be congratulated about my life. Yet somehow it happened with almost everyone I came in contact with.
Old men called me a "knockout" and asked me to dance to Outkast.

The ceremony was beautiful, something I find foreign to say. The air was so clear, the colors an ocean shade. Strangers walked out on their balconies from far away to witness the celebration. As we left the event, I saw sailboats moving slowly like clouds across the crystal blue water. Today was the most vibrant summer I've witnessed.

At the reception I sneaked wine into coffee mugs and felt pretty good. I found myself dancing more than I can ever recall, most notably with a circle of retirees to "The Humpty Dance", "Billie Jean", and "Push It."
Everyone had starry eyes and looked so beautiful. They seemed so interested in my life, and I barely even knew them. One of my cousins (who I haven't seen in probably a decade) told me she is an English major, and said I could call her at any time if I needed help with writing or any life situation. I thought that was so kind.

By the end of the night the sky was lucid and black, the air bit at my skin with its chill.
I felt so alive, and bonded with one of my older cousins. It's times like these I wish I were just a few years older so that I could spend my realities with people like that.

I am so in love with experience.
I'm spending the week in a college workshop, only holding my trust in new people.
I hope it will be like the dance floor tonight; you know no one, but you bond over the moment you're in and can't escape from.

(I love that picture of Carolyn)
We went to the playground behind our old school to swing and gossip.

Dancing with rays of light in front of said school.

The best picture of my ~boyfriend~.

This dress makes me look pregnant. Anyway, that's what I wore today and I like it a lot.

(Wow I actually have teeth)
I wore this shirt to my interview at the library, and hey guess what...

I GOT THE JOB!

07 | 07 | 07

Sun, 08 Jul 2007 01:26:23 GMT

Ever feel that whir of objects around you that you can't describe?
The buzz of everyday beating through your eardrums and through to those rattling brainwaves?
I've felt that way, painted vibrantly and loudly on the sheets of every recent morning.
So much to do, so much done already. I keep going like a blind train, moving faster and faster into all of this experience and I can't stop. I don't want to stop.
It keeps coming and I'm strung-out but I keep pushing.

My hair has grown so long, my skin kissed by some strange rays. I'm finally at peace with this natural world, my eyes constantly fixed on possibility.
I went to New York state this past week, exploring caves and empty fields that stretch for miles.
It was beautiful and real, and I want to carry that with me so I can remain open and free.
Something I value in myself.

On the way to the airport. Seatbelts, everyone!
In case you care, this is before I got the intense, peculiar urge to pluck my eyebrows.

Leaving home.
I don't understand being repetitive, but I like this just the same.

My mom's ~silhouette~ against a guitar designed by Liv Tyler.
Ma mere is an Aerosmith fanatic. It's all very sad, yet similar to my obsessive love of bands so it's all relative. [Literally]

From the plane, the sky reminded me of the sea.

Only more vast, and less mysterious.

Then I fell asleep.

Overhead, in the caves we visited.

This is an illuminated rock-heart on the floor of the cavern.
Folks get married around it.
It looks a lot more beautiful than the idea sounds.

We stayed at my mom's boyfriend's house.
I painted this picture of his pad for him last Christmas, and I felt flattered and embarrassed that he hung it up.

But I got over it quickly when one of my favorite people was all over Bravo the whole time.

We got home, all was well, but I continue to feel weird.

Today.

Hahaha.

I'm leaving for summer college classes in two weeks.
I'm looking forward to school starting up again, especially so I can focus on this new sense of self-liberation. I want to join groups and organizations that fuel my deep interest in exploration and determination. It's shocking to realize that I care about something.

j u l y. j u l y.

Sun, 01 Jul 2007 03:07:21 GMT

Summer rolls in like a tide made of moss,
instead of shells I see the neon burn of fireflies.
It isn't the ocean I hear,
it's the hum of trees turning their leaves over to the storm;
the friction of grasshopper's kicking
to beat their mighty song;
a rattled boom of lights painting the sky for independence;
bones rattling, touching as the night ends.

It's the staleness I feel
moving in like a wave of comfort upon the aura of my skin
that makes me loon-like with satisfaction.
He has come from this shell,
Venus if she changed her form,
swimming through my life making me learn.

It's truth I finally catch in the breeze
in my little jar filled with nothing
it digs its way around the emptiness of its cell
forced to illuminate all it holds, and show me
the way it feels to be looked at
with something more
than his tired pretense.
This time it's something like the way
object skips over water.

The surface is altruistic,
the depths unimagined.

D Y L A N:

M E:

s e a g u l l

Sun, 24 Jun 2007 03:18:45 GMT

I don't think my desperation for flight and the constant attempt at a life of individual prosperity could ever be more vivid than when I'm surrounded by family. After a breakdown aided in devastation took hold of me through the morning, I radiated this poisonous glow of another place buried within my skin. Everyone talked to me like it was my day of celebrating a newfound freedom (versus the truth of it being my cousin's graduation party). I heard my grandma brag about my goals and aspirations. They finally take me seriously and it's unbelievably refreshing.

I'm feeling confident in my sea of choice. I've gone to so many different places without the weight of emotion tied to my feet. I can float as high as I want with the brilliance of opportunity. It feels great to chew through the restraints of being protected.

Summer seems to be flying like gulls, alone but together, dully throught the vacant sky. I see it move in little waves, crashing softly with chance and new days. I'm heading to New York next week to get away from this routine of sameness. In a month I'm taking college classes for Creative Writing. A poem of mine is getting published in a book, and I'm continuing to volunteer at the library.
Things are going well despite the blackness of some history gurgling to the surface of my coming-of-age.
I hope I have a better chance of switching jobs from khaki to the multi-colored exteriors of hundreds of books.

I have a very tired face.

Carolyn // library

Matt, Dylan // ice cream sex

Me // new door.

air.

Fri, 08 Jun 2007 21:34:15 GMT

The storm is whipping my jungle of the free world against my windows and through to my skin. The nature is lush and alive with its movement. Since school is out, I'm no longer in this cell of carbon dioxide. It's all oxygen, breeze, and the power to allow myself happiness.

I finished No One Belongs Here More Than You by Miranda July this morning, and I almost cried. Because it made me feel something. Little jolts of something other than nightime endorphins or dreamy euphoria. It was like love or something just as foreign to me.
No wonder the ocean makes me crazy. No wonder sunlight keeps me indoors. Maybe it's the possibility of love-like dreams that are really shaping my summer brain.

Should I get married? Should I be Good?
Astound the girl next door with my velvet suit and faustaus hood?
Don't take her to movies but to cemeteries
tell all about werewolf bathtubs and forked clarinets
then desire her and kiss her and all the preliminaries
and she going just so far and I understanding why
not getting angry saying You must feel! It's beautiful to feel!
Instead take her in my arms lean against an old crooked tombstone
and woo her the entire night the constellations in the sky...
-Corso.

Oh, he told me he misses me and wants to get back together.
Good thing I have an abundance of hours to sit and think.

I'm really no good at developing photos, but I love capturing these people.
♥

Beneath the water it plays.

Sun, 03 Jun 2007 18:48:08 GMT

I remember playing kickball with my cousins in this empty, hazy field. None of particularly liked the sport but we'd get up real early to watch the dirt create this cloud of smog that would rise in front of everyone, making the trees, brush, and faces turn into translucent ghosts. I think it was a tradition that we would play this game the last agonizing week of school this year. We would cross the bridge between bells & buses, and complete silence.
When my vibrant ties with childhood faded, I found nothing to reach out for other than constellations so many light years away. But as so many eras begin fading each nuclear second I'm awake, sparks of the past's big buzz light all around me.

Many things have died out, a parade de mort of sorts, but it's given birth to new stems of strange vitality. Secondary succession.

I haven't had time to sit inside of my hermit bungalow to count the precious ways I could recover my comfort. I've grown too much to consider it.
Instead I've chosen people who are wholly free to see what they could consider. People without limitations or the weight of the world. People who think, wonder, and keep their eyes open.

I spent the past two nights walking through opposite universes, drinking in everything I saw and let brush through me. I spoke with meth heads waiting in line. I skimmed through $2 John Cale records. I wore sundresses and let the wind move my hair all over my shoulders.
I walked around in the stale heat with Carolyn to find interesting garbage in the land of garage sales. I bought an ivory white starfish candle. We both purchased reading lights.
Later in the day, the sky was painted in a muted watercolor shade of gray as I walked up and down the Strip searching for treasures of an empty beach.
All I want today is the sight of a dark, rolling sea and dozens of broken shells. I've bought these beautiful silks and beads which represent the coral ground of my thoughts.

Summer is the freedom of tidal waves. The whirlpool of possibilities.

Josh gets 50 cent coffee at Starbucks through clever words.

These girls make me stay relatively sane in Gym class.
Kaitlyn, on the left, reminds me of Mia Farrow.

Jewy Louie.

Carolyn had a personal dance party on her birthday.

I am really behind in Photo class.

Open.

Sat, 19 May 2007 15:02:04 GMT

Forget what they say. The wind blows and it carries a thousand stars. Stars burst into this erythrol light in front of me- showing me words, creating an eternal buzz.
I've lost a space in life, I've gained a thousand new ones.
I can't remember what it feels like to pretend. I've become a warrior of chance. I grab what I want and I lose what I don't need. It's a way of life, nature works with me at times.

I missed my old friends so much. I missed their faces, their eyes, their stories. Going back to them and hearing the intimacy of their dreams brightens things. I missed that.
Forever will I be in love with sound. I sit and let it pulse through me, I hear these beautiful people play. They look at me and I look deep into waves of audio.
Maybe I'll try to sing it. Maybe I'll experiment with noise and see where I can place myself.

Days are blurry but they light fires with experience.

when we hang out...

And as we all play parts of tomorrow,
some ways we'll work and other ways we'll play.
But I know we can't all stay here forever,
So I want to write my words on the face of today.
And then they'll paint it.
And oh as I fade away,
They'll all look at me and say, they'll say,
"Hey look at him and where he is these days."
When life is hard, you have to change.
-Blind Melon.

[self-portrait. cages.]

EDIT: I created a seperate lj for outside friends/family → oh_nebula.
If you'd like to add it, certainly feel free to do so.

A couple of lines, an extra thermos of joe.

Sun, 13 May 2007 15:38:13 GMT

I've got nocturnal instincts in me. I feed on the sky when it's covered in late smog and shoots out little diamonds of light. Something about the air just shakes right through me like the first drink in months of desert thirst. Crisp and piercing, I feel it poke my skin and string through my veins.
I enter my walls of comfort, and I see how confined plaster makes me. I think I may start something exciting and fresh. Something that pulls me in every direction, testing my limits and pushing me to run wild. Last night was the first time in so long that I really felt free. I thought that lightyear had passed and pressed itself into a star, but I guess it fell back down again, lighting up my eyes and showing me possibility.

I met so many new faces, new brainwaves and built-in stories. I was in love with the idea of seeing life in a form that can walk, talk, breathe, and recall. I wanted to wrap myself around every collection of cells and organs. I want to run free with silk and hair that smells like lilacs. I want to weave myself in and out of creation. I want to travel every sea to find muses and people. Finally people.

I wish I were a groupie; pulled along by the chains of sound and the bodies which move strangely like fins. Night time for me was sitting on the cold floor watching my old friends and loves just shredding apart their instruments to create something which turned my mind into putty. I was so in love with sound that my teeth chattered and my knees shook. My body lifted off of the ground, covered in ashes and posters, and I looked into each of their eyes like they saved my life.

I drove all around with my friend Josh, the dark carrying us along, stopping to see a show and to see people we knew from the past. I haven't had such moments of endorphin-shooting chaos since... well it's been a long time.
I feel new and fresh, my surroundings changing and recharging my tired eyes. I can barely take it.
I'll be driving soon, giving me possibilities and bodies to swim through. More than ever before.

Like the moon's milk.

Life is full of pain, I'm cruisin' through my brain.

Thu, 10 May 2007 21:29:29 GMT

The season is bringing sound and thought into the hollow walls of my skin. Visions encircling the membranes of my mind, always so lucid and glowing.

When I'm working I can hear echoes all around the porcelain building. I can hear "Sixth Avenue Heartache" by The Wallflowers. I can hear the shuffling of feet. I can hear
It's all music, flowing in and out of my ears like a cartoon whirlwind.

The music carries into the week, and for once I feel elated constantly. I sang every word to a mix of '90s songs in the darkroom of my Photo class. I saw mystery take shape in the chemicals as "Doll Parts" rang on for the six millionth time in my head.

Today has heat rising from every pore I see. I had to sail through the sun, the way it reflects off of putrid brown and aluminum silver, to retake the test for my temporary driver's license.
I can see the highway of my mind, vast and vacant. Sun seeps through the breeze as it is dulled by my poor vision. I can feel free with these feet, walking along any underground or valley. I see no need for a machine. When I travel far, I want to feel the ground. I want to breathe in euphoria and let my skin feel the air of the entire planet. Cars only weigh me down with a 4,000 lb. burden.

Sometimes my eye forms angles, and I wonder if I could create them.
I've considered filming a documentary of the way we see things, even in the same environment. The way things mingle and move, breathe and appear. I want points of view to warp your mind and hold your eyelids open to see each brain as it blossoms and pumps through its own veins.
I think I noticed the way eyes see and connect to the brain and heart, then ultimately to the skin, while I walked along a trail behind my school. It was morning... quiet and new, and I was part of a small group of so many different senses clicking. Like little bugs, pieces of pollen, the ring in your ears underwater. I can't explain the internal diversity and the way it illuminated around the morning sky, but it was there, and it made me think. Through each petal, branch, and cloud, I saw possibilities. I saw the way it must feel to be a member of this society. I felt a sort of place, and I felt like I needed to run.

That night I went out and purchased comfortable shoes.
I think these eyes have caught onto earth like a magnet. I see differing perspectives, and I want fresh ones. This summer will be filled with my travels and records. I'll make that promise to myself.

Jason [ex-boyfriend], Ethan.

Ashley w/ virgin mary gauges.

Flowers in my hair.

Like stars.

They're weeds, but I think they are so beautiful.

♥

The boy was in the hallway drinking a glass of tea.
From the other end of the hallway a rhythm was generating.
Another boy was sliding up the hallway.
He merged perfectly with the hallway,
He merged perfectly, the mirror in the hallway.

And I Should Look Like a Fountain of Gold.

Sun, 06 May 2007 17:03:22 GMT

Yesterday, a woman looked into my eyes like they carried the world.
She said to me, "Do not sever your independence."

And this phrase, this short and tangled string of words, put the haze of my mind into a clear and glistening perspective. I knew I had a mission to myself, to my sanity, my goals, my parade of days. I knew I had to understand worth and what it means to be free again. I cut off ties to the burden of sweetness. I slipped back into the alley of Beats, punks, and words. I know my place and I sing it well. I know I could never shine like a clear summer day or a child with delicate limbs. I am a gray sky over the gutters. I am overcast on the valley. I could never shine like a thousand pink pools, but this isn't a constant fear. It's a reassurance.

I talked for three hours while steaming coffee entered my veins. I talked to my old life and I was free again. A release of high school and confines, a sweet flow of concrete and dark diamond skies. I saw the stars and I saw ghosts of gypsies floating around my tired eyes. They shone like a dead ocean, but it was good.
I remembered what it was like to read and give myself to every page. I have a collection of philosophy, transgression, and dystopia filling my bedroom. Sometimes I wonder if it will break. Plaster and paper all over my eyelashes as I wake up one morning.
But I know that no matter what, I've found what I lost one time, and I understand the meaning of my passions.

I get to run free this summer, to a workshop, to museums, to nature. Just this morning I dug my feet into the lush green grass and it was like childhood and understanding all rolled into each vibrant green leaf. This is life, and it's blossoming everywhere. I can't let myself fall for other situations unlike my own. I can only live as myself. I can only live with the ideas I hold within myself. This makes me breathe text and real air.

Corso.♥

Ghost of the Coast

Mon, 30 Apr 2007 00:54:25 GMT

Sometimes I forget what night looks like. Her sapphire skin sweating handfuls of stars, clouds painted shady like smoke over the moon's pouring light. I forget what it's like to walk through the air as it stings me, the glow of dark as it soothes me, the shadows of love as they tempt me. Some days I want to stay awake to see history. I want to see it all fall into my windows like cosmic cool. Sometimes I imagine myself a stranger, born into the world to exist for no one but the tribes of starlight that seep through the cracks in my walls. These burning beings would enlighten my refuge. And somedays I wonder why ~~anyone~~ everyone else has to break walls down at all.

I guess it's peculiar when you wake at a decent hour to the pink sky, smell the way Colombia might, and see daisy chains and swans floating in the air. Nightlife has taken a rest under my pillow. Saturdays and summers are the breeze I feel when I decide to act like a person.

When I step outside I can taste possibility. I can see faces and places like sunshine reflecting off of car windows, store windows, my eyes. Other peoples' skin.
I feel these thoughts that run wild like poetry, weaving through me and connecting to other people. I feel other people. I feel the earth, and the way it holds so much more than I could ever dream of. I'm finally feeling... something at least, something like a wave before it bursts on the shore. My water is made of worldly particles that remain unexplained.
I love the way the sky moves me. I love the way I can move my feet and close my eyes and end up home, which is really miles away from my own.
I feel home in strange places. I feel home in other people' eyes. This is unfamiliar, but maybe it's because my ties to comfort have frayed and fallen apart. It's a new fire which burns magically through my bones.

A young girl smiled at me as I slid my hands along painted dishes. The smile was light like atmosphere, but it hit be like wonder. I was called well-read. I talked to the fungus that lounged on the water's surface.
I bought so many books. The sky was gray and I looked at each book like it was power.
My body feels like a weapon.