There's this girl in my class. In my section. She has the same name as me and that's by far the only thing we have in common.
She's always annoyed me. She tries very ahrd, you know... I never quite got to hate her. A few times she did things so terrible that I did hate her for a while, but it never lasted. I expect this won't last either, but that's not the point. She realized that her 'insults' simply bounced off me. So she needed a better way. I'm pretty certain that she doesn't actually realize how much i want to hurt her at the moment. I have well kept agression behind this apathetic face and I fear(hope?) it might go down on her.
Why this time? She's been spreading rumours about me. It's not that they are all that bad. That's not the point. But I want to keep quiet. To stay hidden. I don't want half the school to talk about my 'affairs.' I never liked gossip. I've heard quite a lot. I've laughed to most of it. I rarely take any of it seriously. That happens only if I've had suspicions beforehand. Now it is their problem if they suspect every single person in the class for every imaginable sexual/embarassing/etc. act, but come on!...
I really want to hurt her right now. I've kept this wrath for too long and lately I feel it surfacing. I have to let it out on something. I don't count her for someone, so... I don't feel like anyone will really miss her. All her 'friends' are 'if's and her parents are accusations. ugh... I know it's wrong, but right now I can't see why... I want to nail down her mouth with her own teeth... to strangle her with her hair... to stab her in the back with her leg... and front ribs... one, by one, by one...
I dunno i just hope it passes over 'till tomorrow...

I feel somewhat guilty. Yesterday I was reading and re-readin the writings of a very inspiring person I know. He's sometimes considered weird and itook after it. I was planning on emailing a friend, just to keep in touch... the email, though, was destined to happen after these readings. The poor girl. I'm sure she now thinks I'm insane[she's sort of a penpal, from my country, but another city; she doesn't know me all that well, still]... Not that I'm not.. I think she might get scared. Well... her problem.
I still feel refreshed by reading some of his thoughts. He's a real muse, although under his [full/complete] influence I write/draw only 'insane' works... still...
Lately I've been looking at some artworks, at these writings... I've completely forgotten how to draw and express myself by brush or tongue, but I feel so INSPIRED
There are amazing links to the right, I believe the first 3-4 are the ones... I am amazed at people who can see all the pain in this world and still find enough beauty in it to live... "i need a bisquit, fresh scent of flowers, morning sun and some light make up." yes and so do I... I need something refreshing, I need some means of expression. I have to do a poster for english dealing with propaganda... not quite what I'm looking for, but it has to do for practice 'Every city gripped in oil, crying freedom!'
tomorrow I'm going on an insane shopping marathon. We're practically circling the whole center... blah why do my shops have to be so faaar apart? aw well...
I want to try body art. I mean actually making it. And tomorrow I can have some photographers. Today I did a small photosession, but shooting yourself is just pathetic... Tomorrow I have two people to shoot me... take whichever meaning you like. Maybe I can combine the two. There is an idea forming, but we'll see.
I've just realized this post is nothing like what I normally write: it's the way my muse writes. Well you'll have to excuse my easily influenced nature...

What is beautiful? A forum topic made me think... Of course, there are many things that are universally beautiful and would be accepted as such by everybody: a sunset on a beach, a rose covered in dew, the eyes of the loved one... But there is beauty in everything. Everywhere. No... okay, it's not everywhere, but you can find it in places you'd never think of looking. I consider the example I gave in that forum a good one, so I'll tell you as well. Imagine a dead girl in a bathtub full of her own blood and by her a picture of a boy. On the wall there are dripping crimson letters: "I loved you..." Yet the 'd' is a little smudged. Like she tried to wipe it, but she didn't have the strenght to. What could be more personal, more intimate, more exquisite?
It might be a sickening image to some, but if I could own a photo or painting of that I would hang it in my room, above my bed... I'm sick of that commersial beauty. I've seen so many sunsets and dawns. They are all the same. How many roses can you see before they start making you sick? Everybody who actually feels the pictures, the images needs something new. Go to Helnwein's website. There is lots of new there...
I once saw a cat by the road. It was lying there dead. I was coming home from school. I stoped and stared. It had blood in its teeth. Was it its own? Was it the blood of its final pray-killer? I was amazed by its beauty. I went home (only a few steps away) and switched on the PC. I told a friend, who I knew would appreciate it. He did. He made me go back and take a photo. Not that I hadn't had the idea myself. I curse my diffidence that day. I hadn't grown as much. I was nervous for taking photos of a dead cat. Why? I have absolutely no idea. I just was. I took.. 2 or 3 photos and ran back home. Like a little girl. Now that I review the memory I can practically see a little dress imposed over me. Pathetic. Why I'm so frustrated is that even though I know I'm not a brilliant photographer, these photos turned out really bad. They weren't out of focus or anything like that. But they lost the beauty. They were just photos, not a story. I don't know but I am pretty certain there are many people that could have done a lot better. There is that slight doubt that this story could not be turned into a photograph, but that chance is very slight... I still have the photos in a folder, but I keep them only as a reminder.
I wish more people understood this type of art. As much as I adore it, I'm afraid I'm totally inept at producing it. A complete invalid. Pathetic. But every time I see Manson or Gottfried Helnwein my heart warms up.
This is the modern beauty. Beauty isn't meant to be seen everyday and the commersialization of the typical beauty has made it ugly. We need something new. And we can get it. Just look...

I've always considered whether the future is what most people think - something that hasn't happened yet - or what marvel sells us - an ongoing story that is always happening and always changing. I thought it was probably the second: either just because of influence from my subconcious or just brainwash from Marvel. Either way a phrase I recently remembered made me think of another completely new (for me) view of the world. If it is true that would probably mean time travel is impossible as well, but for somewhat different reasons.
What if... yes all great as well as all miserable theories start like that... And still... What if in reality man is just sitting in one place. You don't go to school. You don't take a bus. You don't grab the pen. You are still forever. It is the objects that just pass through your life. That knife that passes through your hand. That bus that passes under your feet. That school that passes in front of your eyes. If you think it makes sense... or maybe I'm just going insane. This theory... I haven't finished developing it, but I just noticed a flaw... If it is true, then humans are supposed to be great minds, sources of intelligence and creativity, a sun of living in a universe of existance... I know too many people that do not fit that description and only few who do. Then I guess only the blessed ones do not have to wlak this earth. The blessed ones stay where they are and experience a world among others along with the many other worlds they can see at any given time... Hmm, seeing this I am probably a simple mind, not blessed, but I am glad to know some who are and believe me they are incredible. They are not bound by restrictions or prejudice of any kind, they have no limit but their vast imaginations... My guess is the greatest of them have become artists and writers, or actors, or... their world is beautiful because... well - just that - because it's theirs...

I am a brat. They've told me I crave for attention. They've told be I'm a bitch. I never understood if that was an insult or a compliment. The worst thing... the worst thing I've been called/told was pretty recently. I was told that I had become "like them." Maybe you don't see what I mean, but if you knew me you'd know. You know those pink 'cute' things that are cheerleaders in Hollywood movies? Yeah... one of those. I can't thing of anything more insulting than that. The worst part is that someone that was close to me said that. Aw well... Obviously I got over it. But every time you get insulted (or complimented for that matter) you start to think - Why? Why do they think so? Of course there are some people to whom you don't even listen to anymore... But if the one who insulted you falls somewhere in between or is even a beloved one... then you wonder. You stop liking them. You cross them off the list. But still, when you're alone and it's late you start wondering. Am I?
I was told I'm 'attenion seeking.' I would pretty much admit that. But the problem... my problem lies there: when I'm in such a condition that would ensure me plenty of attention, then I don't want it. It's not surprising, but it's still pathetic...
I should have become an actress. I've had so much experience. From first grade 'till now. Two people, only two, have seen parts of the 'real me.' On one hand it's good because no one can really get to me. On the other I develop perfect acting and social skills. Is there a down side? Definitely. I wish I could think of it. I don't consider the fact that I don't share my feeling a bad thing. I mean, come on, who really wants to hear my troubles and pains? They've got plenty on their own. I guess in a hope for a 'returned favour' people help others in need - just so they can be helped. I don't think that ever happens.
A person I used to know used to say that the most productive time of the day is after 10 or 11 pm. Well I guess he was right. Somehow, at a time like this you're free. You don't want to sleep. The sound of the keys before is is the thing that keeps you going. I f you stop for too long you might just collapse. Not from exhaustion. Not from boredom or anything as trivial. You just need to hear the keyboard click. It's so soothing at this time of day. Or night. Your choice.
Time is a very weird thing. "Time is an illusion. Lunchtime - doubly so." Yeah. Adams had a pretty good grip on this unreal world. Have you ever felt like you were just a supervisor? Like you were just cotrolling a thing they called body, but you were no part of that body - you just operated it? I feel like that right now. My mind flow is completely out of my will and I write what passes through there. Of course no human can type fast enough to record all that passes. That's why there are gaps in the logical chain of ths post. There might be gaps in one sentece: the beginning and the end just won't fit. I'd rather leave it like this. I enjoy reading things written out of a mindflow. They seem like a birdflight. You just hover over the world, over your thoughts.
Then how come a mind so awake would need rest? As late as it might be? Simple answer.It doesn't. It just guides the body it controls to the rest it needs. Then I shall leave for now. Until my next mind flow. And... who am I? Well for now I am a disproven attention-seeking brat. I seem to use that phrase a lot. You know why? If yes - good, you've been listening. If not - you might want to switch to something easier to read... like what do you say about 'Barbie and the pretty pony'?... In case you still want to know... After someone calls you something you remember it. And on dark and lonely nights, when you start your self-reflection exercises you wonder. Did he mean it? Was it true? I will leave you now to your own thoughts of who you are. Get a cat. And on a sunny day let it in a room where the sun warms a soft and comfy spot. The cat will sit there. Now look at its eyes. It is self-reflecting. It is thinking about the meaning of life. Think with it and fly together. Goodnight...