Tag Archives: agætis

righting the boat

29 Dec

By personal request, Agætis is Ryan.

He just started up a new blog over at http://www.skinnytiejump.wordpress.com , you should probably check it out as he has some very cool videos that have been/are going to be posted.

Whelp, it’s morning. I am kind of numb right now, a little shocked but I’m okay, really. Maybe. Sort of.
Psh, it’s prom. Who cares if I go or not.

You know, I’m just gonna stop writing about that sort of thing, about personal matters, because they do not really make a difference in the way this world works, how it goes round. My stupid little fucking whines about life/love are not that important. I am a drama queen. I am a denizen of the stage.
And really, besides all that, I don’t want to be ignored. Shit, whenever I speak, try and tell a story, there’s always someone who’s ready to interrupt and ignore.
Like Morrissey writes: “There’s always someone, somewhere, with a big nose who knows, who’ll trip you up and laugh when you fall.”

Did some drabbles last night, I’ll see if I can decipher them.

it reels and calls us

28 Dec

Drinkin’ sinus-clearing tea, hopefully it does me some good as my nose is running like Jesse Owens. But I’m recovering. I hate being sick. It is the most feeble thing for me to be, all sniffly and pathetic rather than my usual She-Hulk stride. Bah. Plus I also hate the hundreds of Oriental pills my mother forces me to take, ones that probably have mandrake root and lemongrass ground up inside.
I like lemongrass, actually. Smells delicious.
I just caught a sneeze. Hell yeah.

Aaaalso, also also, I believe I may have boken Agætis’ heart again. Well shitshrooms. Hopefully he does not dwell on what has been said- oh, have I mired myself in a swamp of friendship-turned-romance? Dear god I hope not.

Also, I have a prom plan. Ooohoo. I am not the sort of chickadee who waits for a guy to ask her to prom. No. I am asking peeps. The first one is Bortglomt, though I am pretty damn sure he is going to decline. Then I go to Agætis, who I believe will accept, but if not I go to Jamesey. Well, if he doesn’t accept I start asking random dudes. That’ll work eventually.

Haha! Oh, this’ll be fun.

Aaand going pier jumping tomorrow, woohoohoo.

Will write more later tonight, probably in the next ten minutes.

in case of emergency, break glass

17 Nov

and the glass is in shards around my ankles right now. God, I’m confused and heartachey and full to the brim with this feeling- this feeling that will not go away, no matter how many times I listen to Steam Engine or lie in bed staring blankly at the ceiling, thinking of things better left buried deep in my subconcious. I am in the center of a ring of confusion- on one side are my friends, one of which may or may not be going through a mental breakdown and has not told me, the other of which may be slowly falling away from sanity and beginning to embrace stress as an acceptable way of life.
Then there’s the three people responsible for this heartache- one that I am deathly afraid of him hating me/never speaking to me again/renouncing any inkling of our friendship and possibly ignoring me for the rest of my life. The second one is worrying me as I am starting to write frickin’ poetry about him (not on LiveJournal, thank god) and I know he doesn’t think of me as anything other than another person. (Maybe. ) The
third is just plain being an enigma, telling me one thing then suddenly, inexplicably, turning into a tacit stress magnet. Not that he wasn’t one before, but now it’s scaring me, how seriously he’s taking these standardized tests. I am afraid if he doesn’t get into this program he might be broken beyond recognition, or worse… I don’t even want to think about that possibility. No, I will not let myself even consider it.
But I feel stifled somehow, like I have something so great to write about but no ideas… Maybe it has to do with the music, or maybe it has to do with the people, or maybe I am just slowly going stark raving mad and no one is frank enough to tell me.
Bortglomt. I would like a hug from you, though you probably don’t read this.
Tweed, you are bloody confusing.
Agætis, I hope you survive your ordeal and go back to being your slightly off-the-wall self; the self I like to talk to and spend time with.

so take your money don’t look back…my morning jacket, you are brilliant and I’d like to give you all lumberjack thrash hair hugs.

Ciao, dears.