Blah Blah Blah

Those were the words I sang to the begining of "All you need is love"--
For the longest time, it's what I believed the lyrics were. Though it WAS a tad strange a song with such a passionate meaning began with such mundane words.

But I continued to sing those lyrics, laughing it off without a second thought..because that is what I discerned them to be.
I never thought about questioning it, because in those lyrics I found blah entertaining, and easy- then, after much embarassment, (and movie watching) I learned the real lyrics: love, love, love.

Funny. I'd love to draw conclusions and make many analogies, but I don't feel like it.
Sloth, at it's finest.

I'd like to think that you, dear reader, have thought of times that you have been entirely off the mark...and were humbled.

I'm talking truly humbled, not the word we mearly throw around because it makes us feel and look better..the feeling.

Anyway, I am off.
And you know what? I'm still feeling yellow with an upswing on the side.

Fashionable Existing

To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all.

-Oscar Wilde

I know, Mr. Wilde was a crazy man. But boy did he make people think by the way he lived his life. Choosing to live aesthetically and embodying art in every aspect..though I wouldn't live strictly by him- I respect his being true to himself in a time when it wasn't fashionable to be such.

Each day something new comes at me, which is mad. You'd think after 21 years of life you could get used to life, people, routine, philosophy, nature, and miracles.

That's simply not what I've found.

Right now I find it absolutely vital to assure myself that I don't have it all together, nor will I. And the discoveries I make each day are key to my own "adventure". I place adventure in quotations because immediately I wanted to say walk, but cringed at the christianese and made it something everybody could relate to.

[Note: for those of you who make it a point to be concerned with my spiritual life, rest assured. I want absolutely NOTHING with the christian culture, and each day am surprised at the hypocritical joke it's become. I suppose that's what occurs when religion becomes just that..and is paired with a spot of conglomeration. Do I have an answer? Not necessarily, but I do know the best way to reach people is to meet them where they are. Actually living life by the red script, being IN the world.. confronting yourself daily, and not becoming 'set' in conglomerate ways.]

That determination is humbling, and is not at all easy...let me tell you. It's far easier to point one's finger then it is to look at your own tarnished self.

The person of frustration today? Pope Benedict, for his lovely advice in Africa.

Though Iggy Pop isn't the best musician, he sure does have an opinion!

Reads: Everything is Illuminated by Mr. Foer-- perfect after Clockwork Orange.

And I'm off to some tea and reads.

Go ahead and start living.. without thought to what others think. Believe me, you won't have ANY fun living by their standards!

Fountains, Hypocrites, and Chocolate Enduced Comas

Little by little life makes these lovely epiphanies, allowing me to draw conclusions..experiencing life personally.

I don't have it all together, nor do I believe the perspective of one can be justified as a formula for all.

Woah. Casting all judgement aside? What a concept! It's funny, those who adamantly declare their lack of judgement...I've found to be the most hypocritical.

Not to say I'm not a hypocrite, because each one of us is in some facet or another, it's just one of those brilliant fountain swelling light beaming conclusions the world has so kindly impressed upon me.

RECAP: I'm a hypocrite. You're a hypocrite. How about ending the finger pointing, and see that we're all in the wrong in a different sense- without hierarchies.

And now something different:

A few days ago I was doing laundry.. well, a lot of laundry. For some reason I can't come to the conclusion that this arduous task wouldn't be so if I wouldn't wait until all I have to wear is those terrible light wash jeans and shirt (which lost it's shape long ago, and really should have been discarded months before)-

Yet I still found myself doing "group laundry" and condemning myself for hours of timed cycles. I am slightly irritated by my use of "myself" twice in the same sentence. I digress. The strangest feeling came over me as I watched boy clothes intermingle with my own-

I was weirded out, so much so that I ate away my issues through too many truffled chocolates and fell into the lives of Samantha, Carrie, Charlotte, and Miranda. It's become an addiction, one that I am not so closeted in..unfortunately.

I would love to continue this entry, but it would go against my belief of long-winded entries. Bottom line: if you can't get to the point in one paragraph you shouldn't be posting using online means. Write a damn email, because nobody has the patience to sift through pages of your philosophy and terrible writing.

Told you I'd be honest.

And now a message from our partners-

Each entry I write, though I attempt to keep my thoughts unfiltered, is written with the knowledge that people I know are reading it. You'd think I'd be aware uh, hello the blog has MY name as the URL that people I'm intimately antiquated with..and those I wish would fade into the back ground are reading these words.

And it has been affecting this blog's contents. What I write, what I want everyone to see, and who I want people to see me as: the backstabber, social butterfly, irritating older sister, or the girl: carefree-born-in-the-wrong-generation.

So this is me taking the blog back, unafraid of the contents I may publish-
Life is too short, and if you-- my dear reader-- are offended or frustrated place your mouse on that cute little back arrow, or comment.

So, look forward to me. I hesitate with that sentence, yet if you're here? You're interested.