"Should Auld Acquaintance Be Forgot

and never brought to mind?"

It's a pretty immature question, but where does all this time go? I mean, if time never stays with us it must be somewhere else. I want all the time I lost back. I'm not sure what I'd do with it once I have it though.

Audrey Kawasaki is so talented, Taylor told me about her. Aren't you just so in love too? She paints on wood paneling, just like Esao, although you don't see the wood panel in Esao's art.

For the past few days I've had wonderful, half awake talks with the Cave Dweller. They're really nice, and I really do enjoy them.

I'm much more open to giving sentimental compliments on paper, or screen, rather than telling him. I think the interweb creates this immediate gratification that leaves me at ease. If what I write, or type, isn't quite what I want to say I can just backspace a few seconds and I have a clean slate. If my words slip, I just erase. There isn't any of those awkward tripping over my words moments, although I do like them at times. It's sort of fantastic that, for once, I can say the right thing.

Earlier, I was talking about how I don't want someone to change for me. I don't want someone who will change to please me. Nothing is real when it's forced. Nothing is real, when you aren't real. I mean, if I just cut out all those romanticized words and just get straight down to it I'm saying "Just let me know you for once". Is that really too much to ask for. I don't really know how else to explain this.

For auld lang syne, my dear, for auld lang syne.

"There's More Inside of Me

than skin and bones."

I feel okay today, I look nice today, I have no where to be today.

Mary Christ-mask Eve.

"I Don't Really Like You,

apologetically dressed in the best, but on a heartbeat glide."

I think that I can narrow my "type" down to four men:

1)Sam Endicott of The Bravery
2)Gael Garcia Bernal
3)Anthony Green of Circa Survive
4)Geof Manthorne of Ace of Cakes

It's apparent that I like singers, actors, and cake makers.

Christmas is two days away, this isn't my favorite time of the year. Anymore, no time is my favorite time of year. There isn't much to like anymore, at least for me.

As for the friend posts, that will resume at a later time. Perhaps, two or three updates later. I think that I'll only put one or two more friends up, because honestly I don't choose to have many friends. It's not that I can't make friends, oh no, I could have a sea of strangers if I wanted. It would be like my past, full of faces, full of lies. I just, don't want to be walked all over or hurt anymore. That's all really.

"You're the yellow bird

I've been waiting for."

Taylor wouldn't let me put a picture of her on my blog. She said something about killing me if I did. I wouldn't mind being alive for another day or so. Taylor is a Canary, I mean it's just that simple.

Things I most enjoy:

• Her "nyuus" and "byuus" and "noshes"
• Her interests: bones, birds, cephalopods, tea, asians, the list continues further
• When she nyuus levator and sings "You Are My Sunshine"
• The voices
• The personas
• Our made-up conversations
• How we just, understand

Things I don't enjoy:

• I don't think I don't enjoy anything about Taylor

I mean, she is my best friend and all.

I sounded like a blubber-nugget in the last update, I didn't meant to be so mean.

:|

"When I Wake Up Next to You,

half of me is worried you'll leave me. The other half is mostly worried I have cancer."

My friend Adrian looks like David Bowie. It makes me want to forgive him, for still collecting Bionicles at 16. That quote has nothing to do with him. It'd be weird to wake up next to him, or to wake up with cancer. But I digest(AHHAHA). I am going to introduce the online world to my pond of faithful fish. This won't go in any specific order, he's first because, well, I saw this picture of him on my Photobucket, and WHAMMY! it's up.

Adrian Nathan Cuevas Raya

What I like about Age:

• Willingness to accept my horrible, nonsense nicknames
• His extensive knowledge of the PS3 and all other gaming systems
• His crazy Bowie hair
• His apologetic puppy-dog stare
• His puppy-dog Jellybean,or Dog.
• The black rocky seat in his room
• His eccentricity
• His music taste
• How he treats his DVDs

What I don't enjoy:

• The layout of his room
• The fact that Gerry hates me
• His eagerness to grab things out of my hands

-___-

I mean, if I didn't enjoy too much about him, it'd be hard to be friends. He is my best guy friend, even though I won't admit it to his face. Well, maybe sometimes I will.

"La sopa de sopa es en mi estomago."

You won't get it interweb lurkers, but you can pretend you do.

Tomorrow, I'll introduce you to another friend, and you can pretend you are in my life for the five or so minutes you read it.

Ciao.

It's My Party, and I'll Cry If I Want To

All those things, are so wonderful. I mean, my birthday isn't that horrible. I feel spoiled, like I shouldn't have ever received any of these things. Given, I bought three of those movies (Fight Club, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Burn After Reading)with the money that was given to me as a gift, therefore I count them as presents. I haven't gotten my grand total of birthday money summed up yet, it's around $200. I am very thankful.

Today, when I was in Wal*Mart buying presents, I walked by the movie rack between the boys' clothing section and the electronics area. I saw so many wonderful movies, for a wonderful price! I was in Wal*Mart for about an hour, in just that one section. I was debating what to get. I also saw many of the Batman movies, it was so tempting. Although, I didn't want to spend my money. I contently settled for the three movies stated above.

Age: -agitated- "Why didn't you put Ageypoke? I like that better than Age-a-pa-looza."

Chrissy: -teasing- "Well, if you won't respond to that I'll give my present to someone else who responds to that name!"

Age: -down trot- "I'll respond to it."

Chrissy: -change the subjecty- "Age-a-pa-looza sounds like a band get together thing."

Today is a good day. It's pretty wonderful to have a good day, and to feel this nice, for once.

Apologies for the Delay

I've been neglecting writing a new entry in this blog. I can't say that I've been busy, that would be a lie. Lately, I've been reluctant to the usage of technology. My text count has gone down about 8k. It used to be around 11k monthly. It's simmered down to about 3k. I mean, that's a break through for myself. -Pats on the Back-

This kat, this kat above. She hates me, or loves me. I've never really understood the difference of the word. Anyway, I wanted to get a decent picture of her, so I had to lock her in the closest. I snapped this when she was next to the gift wrap. I hope the flash didn't hurt her eyes too much. I just thought I'd let the online world know that this is the only person I'm willing to share everything with. That is, until another kat gains my trust.

The page views jumped 155, either I'm getting a lot of visitors or the same person visits numerous times a day. They both seem plausible.

Hello, my name is Christina, and I pine for a relationship. However, when offered one, I will never take the opportunity. Aren't I just so wonderful? I keep telling you people that I am wonderful, do you believe me yet?

Meow, my birthday is tomorrow. The thought is not at all enjoyable. This feeling is not at all enjoyable. Have you ever felt like you could burn the entire world down? "Everyday."

Have you ever felt like your heart sunk down into your stomach, and has begun being dissolved away by the acid inside? Bittersweet, isn't it?

The Repeating Theme of Numbers Has Become Bland

Hello, again. As the title implies, I've become horribly bored with the constant use of numbers as the title of my blogs. Therefore, I will continue title with phrases that suit its contents.

The picture to the left is "Weep" by James Jean. For the past three posts, I've been putting art. There is no purpose, if you were curious at all.

I really need to figure out what I want, who I want. When things finally get handed to me on a fucking silver platter, I push it away, I don't want it anymore. I feel like I don't deserve anything, anyone.

Everything would be a hell of a lot easier if I stopped thinking things a million times over, examining and re-examining every possible fuck up and how to solve it. It really sucks having a need to be sensible, rational.

I've never really understood when people told me to listen to my heart, what the fuck does it say? All I hear is beating, all I feel is beating. The only thing that makes sense is when I listen to my mind, do what I know is right, what's safest.

I don't want anything. I don't want anyone. Makes sense, sounds right, feels safe.

XVI.

My birthday is rolling in too soon. I've never dreaded the arrival of a new age so much; it's frightening.

<-- This, this. This... Is the work of Alex Pardee. He is also a wonderful painter, who I envy greatly. If I ever get to paint, I would really love to paint in that style. However, I have no talent. Whatsoever.

I am waiting for Invictus to come out; the date is December 11th 2009.

I was actually planning to write something along the lines of profound, at least in my point of view, but as you see I am emotionally blank.

Thanksgiving is coming up, I am thankful for Taylor Hermann, and all her works. Haha.

I'm watching House Hunters on HGTV, it makes me want to buy a home with my rocker husband. I want to look for a home with an extra room for my art supplies and your guitar. I want a small room for my kittens litter box, because you hate how I keep it in bathroom. I want a large backyard, because we love to spend time outside. I want a medium size master bedroom, so we have an excuse to buy a smaller bed and sleep closer together. It has to be close to a forest or mountains, because we love to hike and explore. Lastly, I want an attic, with a circular window right in the center front. It would be wonderful. Also, I want a study. I'll keep my books there, and a large love seat.

UnoCinco.

Hi, my name is Christina B_______ G_____ and I completely fail at life.

OneFour.

I've run out of languages to title my posts; I apologize.

Isn't Esao Andrews wonderful? This one is title "Thought". He is, by far, my favorite artist.

I actually have a purpose for this post, sort of. I am, once again, going to go through what I like to call "Improvement Movement". It is an "Autumn Alteration".

The Master Plan:

1)Once again, make an attempt at pescetarianism.

2)Exercise, you heard it right, exercise!

3)Cut down on the electronics use: less computer, less phone, less video juegos, less TV.

4)Pick up on progressive hobbies. I plan to: paint, (finally) learn to crochet, learn to knit, finish writing a fucking novel (and not bullshit myself and say it's a "short-story"), finish all the books I own, start reading the "classics" I'm planning to start with Tolstoy.

5)Spend absolutely no money on "non-necessities".

6)Try and be happy for once, and not make silly excuses why I shouldn't be.

7)Actually write a journal entry a day, like I originally intended.

8)Stop worrying.

9)Stop being bitchy.

10)Do homework on the day it was assigned.

Sounds like a good master plan, right? Let's hope this can be implemented, followed through. I will not tolerate failure anymore.

XIII.

RE: Melting into cement

I've been thinking about it, and it sounds nice. I mean, it wouldn't be much of a change from now. If you catch my drift.

Good Night,

This blog was unnecessary, but I was still compelled to write something.

Dodici.

There is no direction, no master plan, I apologize for my ramblings.

I have this habit of reading through my blog posts, or journal entries, and having a strong impulse to delete them. I'm always so ashamed of myself, of my past. I'm ashamed of being ashamed, if you catch my drift. Note to self: break this habit. I heard somewhere that you must love yourself before you can love others. Bull shit, if you ask me.

I just got back from this party. I hated it, I don't enjoy social events. Why did you go then, dipshit? I know you're wondering that. Well, you see, I have this mother who just loves society and all its works. She loves how popular she is, unintentionally she brags about it to me. Constantly, I am pushed to be popular too. She says I need to make more friends. I'd rather have a pond of faithful fish than a sea of strangers, if you catch my drift. Back to the original point: It's really hard to fill her shoes, to be instantly adjusted when thrown into a social function. She adapts. I panic. I never understood how to mingle. Can someone teach me?

I looked into a mirror today. I realized this: I hate mirrors. I want to completely forget what I look like. I want to imagine someone better. End of story.

I relate to pennies quite well. Unused, unappreciated, about to be forgotten entirely. End of transmission.

Sometimes I lay in the concrete and hope to melt into it. That's impossible, you are stupid. Yeah, you're probably right. End of dialogue.

My goal in life is to become wonderful, because unlike the rest of you I wasn't born it. I guess I will die with unfulfilled hopes. End of desire.

I'm going to stop now. After this next one, I've completely run out of anaphoras tonight. End of blog.

XI.

"Everything is more complicated than you think. You only see a tenth of what is true. There are a million little strings attached to every choice you make; you can destroy your life every time you choose. But maybe you won't know for twenty years. And you may never ever trace it to its source. And you only get one chance to play it out. Just try and figure out your own divorce. And they say there is no fate, but there is: it's what you create. And even though the world goes on for eons and eons, you are only here for a fraction of a fraction of a second. Most of your time is spent being dead or not yet born. But while alive, you wait in vain, wasting years, for a phone call or a letter or a look from someone or something to make it all right. And it never comes or it seems to but it doesn't really. And so you spend your time in vague regret or vaguer hope that something good will come along. Something to make you feel connected, something to make you feel whole, something to make you feel loved. And the truth is I feel so angry, and the truth is I feel so fucking sad, and the truth is I've felt so fucking hurt for so fucking long and for just as long I've been pretending I'm OK, just to get along, just for, I don't know why, maybe because no one wants to hear about my misery, because they have their own. Well, fuck everybody. Amen."

Decem.

"I breathe your name on every exhalation. "

-Synecdoche

Мне девять лет.

I ripped up the past year's entries in my journal. It was more symbolism than anything; just a ritual for my own sake, my own well being. I still won't forget one moment of the slums of my life. Regrets are high definition movies eternally playing inside our minds. (J. Comeau) I'd put quotations around the previous sentence, but it's not recited verbatim therefore quotation marks would have been inaccurate. I've digressed. Continuing: I have collected all the scraps of my life in a little Yu-Gi-Oh tin; I have not yet decided if I want to finish this ritual by burning them. Quick disposal. My other option is to throw away the box, shreds intact, as a means to get them out of my head. Go to a landfill, preserved. However, out of sight. Out of sight, out of mind. I mean, either would work.

I have granted myself a fresh start. A clean slate. Redemption. A second chance. Whichever title you choose to associate with it. Although, I don't feel as if I've gained enough brownie points to even consider rewarding my self with another chance. Well, hell! I give out millionth chance to people who do not deserve it whatsoever, but who am I to decide if they do. Deserve it or not, that is. I mean, if they don't deserve it and are granted it, what makes myself any different. "Equality!" I will shout. I don't deserve to be equal.

Huit.

Anymore, I don't know anything. (I've always loved how Palahniuk does that. "Anymore, [Insert statement here]." As opposed to "I don't know anything anymore.") I said that aloud yesterday in Art. "Anymore, I don't know anything." This boy in my class, he heard and said, "Have you ever really known?" More just to comment than to strike any deeper meaning. It got me to thinking though, have I ever really known? Have I ever really been sure? I wish I could answer this.

Sieben.

There was something here, that made me cringe when I read it over.

여섯.

...And I want to play hide and seek, give you my clothes, tell you I love your shoes, sit on the steps while you take a bath. And massage your neck and kiss your face hold your hand and go for a walk. Not mind when you eat my food. And meet you at "Rudy's" and talk about the day. Talk about your day. And laugh at your... Your paranoia! And give you tapes you don't listen to. Watch great films. Watch terrible films. And tell you about the TV program I saw the night before, and not laugh at your jokes. I want you in the morning. But let you sleep in for a while. Tell you how much I love your eyes, your lips, your neck, your tits, your ass! I sit on the steps smoking until your neighbors come home! Sit on the steps smoking until you come home. And worry when you’re late. And be amazed when you’re early. I give you sunflowers. And go to a party and dance. Be sorry when I’m wrong. And happy when you forgive me. Look at your photos, and wish I’d known you forever. Hearing your voice in my ear. Feel your skin on my skin. And get scared when your angry. I tell you you’re gorgeous! And hug you when you’re anxious. And hold you when you’re hurt. And want you when I smell you and offend you when I touch you, and whimper… When I’m next to you. And whimper when I’m not. Dribble on your breast. Smother you in the night! And get cold when you take the blanket… And hot when you don’t! Melt when you smile. Dissolve when you laugh. But not understand how you think I’m rejecting you. When I’m not rejecting you and wonder… How you could think I’d ever reject you. And wonder, who you are. But I accept you anyway. And tell you about the tree angel… Enchanted forest boy… Who flew across the ocean… Because he loved you. I buy you presents you don’t want. And take them away again. And ask you to marry me. And you say no, again. But keep on asking because you don’t… You don’t think I mean it. But I always have from the first time I asked you. I wander the city thinking. It’s empty without you, but I want what you want, I think… I’m losing myself. But but but! I’ll tell you the worst of me and try… To give you the best of me. Because… You don’t deserve any less. Answer your questions when I’d rather not. And tell you the truth… When I really don’t want to. And try to be honest! Because I know you prefer it. You think it’s all over but… Hang on for just ten more minutes. Before you throw me out of your life! Forget who I am! And let me try and get closer to you. And somehow… Somehow… Somehow communicate some of the overwhelming, undying, overpowering, unconditional, all encompassing, heart enriching, mind expanding, on going, never ending, love… I have for you.

Cinco.

click.

cold night, lonely fight.

shared bed, single head.

clean slate, it's too late.

stay with me, you'll barely be.

short one rhyme, i'm out of time.

Four.

Incoherent Ramblings between cephalopods:

Her

& I

9:25:02AM She left me with a broken heart.

9:25:19AM And took all my money

9:27:42AM And now the prom queen, the prom queen is outside of my door.

9:42:14AM The prom queen, he waited, and held a molotov.

9:55:07AM You never know how things might turn around.

9:55:55AM I asked him to come inside, he flew away instead.

10:00:50AM Turning. Turning. Sunflower scrapes.

10:02:54AM Flying high, though he had no wings like Icarus. Icarus had a soul to weigh him down, but you can fly high.

10:04:43AM You sway like the wind. Turning. Turning. Thin man.

10:06:15AM Lost man. God save my prom queen.

I'm not quite sure either.

Three.

I get lost in all you tell me. I'm not sure what to believe. I'm not sure how to feel. I'm not sure what to think. I'm so fucking scared with you.

Two.

I
need
to
learn
to
exhale.

One

_____i am
_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​spiraling,​
_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​spiraling,​
_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​spiraling,​
_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​spiraling &
_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​falling
_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​falling
_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​falling
_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​falling into
_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​ a hole i hadn't
_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​ chosen to know
_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​ into a land i'd
_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​ rather not go
_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​_​ i claw my way up
______________ but i still sink low
_____________ lower
____________ lower
__________ lower
________ no
_______chance
______ to
_____ slow
____oh hello
rock bottom.