http://search.deviantart.com/?q=by:child-proof&section=today deviantART RSS for by:child-proof en-us Copyright 2009, deviantART.com Thu, 17 Dec 2009 15:11:55 PST deviantART.com http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rss http://s.deviantart.com/minish/widgets/apple-touch-icon-precomposed.png http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/28771671/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/28771671/ Sat, 05 Dec 2009 17:31:26 PST I can be found here: [link] !

All artwork is twenty-five dollars, and all photographs are thirty. Reason being is that photography, since it's all film, costs me a lot of time and effort to do, and I have to pay for renting out darkroom time.

Work that is currently on Esty:

Fell in Love with a Dead Girl
• 
  Walked These Streets
• 
  Fightclub
• 
  Is There anybody Out There?
• 
  High as a Kite
• 
  Nobody's Home
• 
  U 1.1
• 
  I Forgot it was Twilight
• 
  Disappear


If there are any pieces that anyone wants and will actually buy them (i.e no requests just because you think they would make a good print, only if you want it) then please, PLEASE tell me either here, on the deviation itself, or through a note and I will inform you when I post it.

Thank you and happy shopping!

]]> ~child-proof http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/28575310/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/28575310/ Wed, 25 Nov 2009 18:58:19 PST sometimes the things I think
should not be said.

I think I fucked up
bad.
But I'm the only one who notices. Or maybe
Everyone else does
and I'm the only one not
keeping quiet.

I miss things
sometimes
I really, really do.


Thanksgiving is here. Be thankful for what you had, have, and will have. You have your health, your family, friends. You have a chance, an opportunity, a choice. Think about that and don't wallow. No good has ever come from wallowing.

Dinner number one was a success.
Dinner number two will commence tomorrow, however, this time with a real turkey rather than a tofu one that I can actually eat. Tofurkey, despite how awkward the name is, is pretty fucking delicious.

I'm keeping a composition book that gave me the first day of school. It's small enough to fit in my back pocket and I'm going to use it to write down all those poem lines and thoughts that I think of but always forget. Hopefully, it'll be, like, one of those places I can vocalize thought without speaking, and they won't be in my head anymore. Or just, to write down one more thing I shouldn't be wallowing about because my life is pretty fucking good.

Phantom limbs, phantom limbs, phantom limbs. My new deviation doesn't make sense because it doesn't even make sense to me. I mean, what it's about. It doesn't make sense. :/

I'm going to stop now
because random just got
way
too
random.

]]> ~child-proof http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/28363166/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/28363166/ Sat, 14 Nov 2009 21:27:10 PST fuck everything.
fuck me.
fuck you.
fuck last year
fuck this year.
fuck what happened.
fuck what will.
fuck my obsessive thought
fuck my emotional masochism.
fuck your emotional sadism.
fuck my dad making me feel worse.
fuck my dad for being right.

fuck my inability to tell you exactly everything i want to to you your face.
fuck that.
fuck everything.

]]> ~child-proof http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/27876119/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/27876119/ Thu, 22 Oct 2009 14:51:49 PDT Eighteen tomorrow, I guess that's exciting :]! I was actually asked on Sunday, I believe if I'm sad about leaving my "teenage" years and entering "young adult."
For now, I'm really happy and I cannot wait. Though, who knows. Maybe it'll be like that thing where when I was younger I couldn't wait to grow up and then once I did, I wished to death that I could be a little kid again and watch my Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles on the WB every Saturday morning at nine o'clock. But, for now, I'm excited. I'm thinking about uploading some photographs my dad and I took yesterday; I came to his place because I didn't feel like hanging around my mum's house by myself, and my dad decided he was tired of being cooped up in the house for weeks on end working on his system, and wanted to breathe in some fresh air. We went to a park about twenty minutes away. Oh, man. It was absolutely gorgeous outside and I couldn't help but to take pictures with my Enigma the Sigma, or as my friend Ferris calls him, Omega. So, I'll probably put them in scraps since I not a big fan of digital photography and it seems that most people are accustomed to me posted drawings and not photos, especially digital photos (speaking of drawing, I'm sorry I've been lacking. Not enough time? Something like that).
Speaking of birthday, I'm thinking about getting my tragus ([link])done, since it's only, like, five dollars.

In other news, there's a writing contest that I'm entering in hopes of winning some cash. First place gets five-hundred dollars; second place gets two-fifty. I'm entering the group of three poems category thing.
Poems entering: [link] [link] [link]
However, I've edited "White Frost" to: [link]

So, that's my mini update.
Oh, wait, also. I think I'm coming down with something. I've been drugging up like no tomorrow all day :<.

--

That something I've been coming down with is swine. woot.

]]> ~child-proof http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/27715316/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/27715316/ Sun, 11 Oct 2009 20:33:41 PDT MICA open house went well. Portfolio got accepted and all, but I still need to actually apply. Still need to work on space and not not including extremities-hands, feet, head- in my work.

Got kicked out of the SAT yesterday because my mother had forgotten to give me back my ID from when I went for my permit four weeks ago.

Outfest '09 today. Possibly the most fun I've had in a while (photos on Facebook).
New pack of Marlboros bought for me today. Life is good, good, good.

gallery> scraps> outfest> picture of protesters.

]]> ~child-proof http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/27251279/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/27251279/ Wed, 16 Sep 2009 18:45:21 PDT You are strange and force me to find the details on some pictures.
You look too much like Twitter and I don't appreciate.

Love,
child-proof.

Ps- I don't like you.

]]> ~child-proof http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/27042682/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/27042682/ Sat, 05 Sep 2009 20:19:52 PDT So, summer is coming to a close, senior year coming. I'm finally able to start applying to colleges and putting the finishing touches on my portfolio while also working on my AP.
I have to say, even though in some ways this summer wasn't necessarily one of my best, it was definitely memorable. Going to UArts for four weeks has reassured me that art school is what I want to do, and Nantucket was a nice escape from Philly, even though afterwords sort of killed it. I really enjoyed it... well, as much as possible, at least. It had it fun points. Like, adventures in the city, and town, and spontaneous trips to Atlantic City with my dad, and being denied taking my permit test, and having huge writing kicks, and drawing kicks, and being somewhat productive. somewhat. I still have yet to finish a painting from, like, May that I restarted. Maybe I'll actually finish it before school start (this is SO unlikely to happen).

And now, talking to the asshole I like about the asshole I like without giving him away.
--
Well, I just failed with that last part. Awesome.

]]> ~child-proof http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/26946690/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/26946690/ Mon, 31 Aug 2009 21:30:47 PDT And I ask

Who are you and where did you come from. Why are you yelling. Why are you fucking yelling.

You don’t answer. You stare with blank eyes. You weren’t even screaming to begin with.

And I pester

Why are you here. Can’t you see this is my home. Find your own broken down box.

You don’t move. You stare with quiet eyes. We’re in the middle of the suburbs not an ally way.

And I plead

Can you take me to the promise land? Can you free my soul? Can you led me away, away, away.

You don’t comment. You stare with mocking eyes. No one believes in religion anymore.

And I forfeit

Obviously you know something I do not. Obviously someone has taught you to disregard nonsense.

You get up and leave without a word.

And I stand there

Transfixed at what just happened. Clearly misunderstanding this stage of enlightenment by a man who probably never stood there.

And I rub my eyes

And come to the realization that

I am alone.

]]> ~child-proof http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/26794077/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/26794077/ Mon, 24 Aug 2009 11:05:52 PDT i guess the worse is over.
--
I'm terribly sorry for being MIA for such a long time. I guess. Working on some new writing that I may/not post. I don't know-- I'm going through a horribly trangressive phase (like you haven't always written transgressive prose. I mean seriously. This is new and exciting /sarcasm), and I'm getting worried that people who don't know me well think in fact I'm a pothead.

For the record: I'm not.

But, yeah. I may start writing again. It seems to help. Besides, it gives me more work to pick from to add to my portfolio (or, at least according to MICA I can submit "nonacademic" writing as well, which, I guess, could be considered anything I decide to post on devART. Or maybe this is just my overly ambitious side talking. Who knows.).
--
I recently filled out what may be the greatest job application. Ever. Siren Records has asked me my favourite band from the 1960s, 1970s, 1980s, 1990s, and now, and also a mixed CD of my favourite music. Winn.
--
Permit on Saturday. Hopefully.
It's about time, Miss Eighteen-in-two-months.

]]> ~child-proof http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/26660001/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/26660001/ Mon, 17 Aug 2009 21:27:35 PDT [link]
--
[link]
--
[link]
--
[link]
--
Rough draft:

“You never know how much you’ve missed something until it’s not there,” goes the cliché.
You never realise how the moments of arguments and stubborn, adolescent understandings of “unfair” were truly steps of love and affection.
You never fully realise the magnitude of someone giving up learning the majority language as a child having them as the only person you talked to.
You never realise how stubborn someone is with their life, both physical and mental, until the stubbornness seems to get them nowhere but bedridden.

I don’t think that I can express in words everything that I want to.
Her room still smells of her, though I can’t seem to differentiate whether it is actually her sent or that of twenty different painkillers (but, inevitably, it is what it is).
What my babulya went through her seemingly long life had lend her to be the strong women we all remember her as. The stubbornness that was certain what it said was correct, though at times it proved to be mistaken, has frustrated some, and, at other times, reinforced care she had for everyone. It had led her to be the loving grandmother that would threaten boyfriends with beatings if they dare hurt us, and be there to confide to when it seemed no one else could know.

As possibly inappropriate for me to state this now as it may seem, I can’t say she died peacefully. Though her body had prolonged its life until the seventeenth of August, her soul had died many months prior. Her last breaths will be ones that I will never forget, but even more so, the memory of what she had done, not only for me, but her other three grandchildren, her two daughters, and everyone else who had the sheer pleasure of aquatinting this great women, will be one that overpowers the former.

You never quite know how much you miss someone, how much you love, and how much someone means to you, until they’re not there.

Kak maya Babulya gavareela, Masha, kooshee soupe, elle ya ne budo tede botshee katoylete.
--
“You never know how much you miss something until it’s not there,” goes the cliché.
You never know how the moments of arguments and the stubborn, adolescent understandings of “unfair” were truly steps of love and affection.
I don’t think I can express everything I want to in words.
Her room still smells like her. What my babulya went through her seemingly long life had led her to be the strong woman we all remember her as. She was born in the early beginning of the Soviet Union, graduated from medical school and was thrown into the pits of WWII as a surgeon. After the war, she met her husband and had two wonderful daughters.
I had lived with her in the same room since my birth until the age of thirteen, and there wasn’t a day that she didn’t live up to the full meaning of her name: love. At times, she was difficult. While Babulya never knew the saying, “The way to a heart is through the stomach,” she fully embraced it. Portion control was not in her vocabulary. Refusing her third or fourth would be seen as blasphemy and be threatened with, “I’m not going to cook for you anymore.” She was not shy to use guilt to get her way. She frequently used, “If you don’t eat, I won’t love you anymore,” but we all knew this was a tactic she used to make sure we were all well-fed. Very well-fed. Her loving stubbornness had led her to be the grandmother that would threaten boyfriends with beatings if they dare hurt us, and simultaneously be there to confide to when no one could know.
Babulya never learned English, however, her warm smile bridged any language barrier.
Her lasts breaths will be ones I will never forget, but, even more so, the memory of what she had done, not to only for me, but her other three grandchildren, her two daughters, and everyone else who had the sheer pleasure of aquatinting this great woman.

]]> ~child-proof http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/26239308/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/26239308/ Tue, 28 Jul 2009 17:58:26 PDT Dear you,
I'm glad I saved you five years ago.
Saying hi for once would rock.

Dear you,
I better not have been an impulse afterwards.

Dear you,
I never told you why I left my school.
You'd understand why you can't do this.

Dear me,
Failure is a good thing.

]]> ~child-proof http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/25699724/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/25699724/ Thu, 02 Jul 2009 16:42:36 PDT So, I think I may have everything figured out. I mean, not really, but like, in terms of... well. I don't know.
I thinks there has to be a reason that I've stopped giving it my all, especially concerning relationships. I mean, there was a point I would never turn someone down, and I'd be really happy knowing someone else liked me. I don't have that anymore. I really don't care. Yeah, relationships are great, I love them. But, I haven't found them as rewarding. They're just there, sitting, making no difference aside from the constant talking with one another, but I mean, other than that, it's nothing.
I have no problem now making out with a different person everyday of the week. This doesn't phase me at all. I don't feel any guilt, or jealously if they go with someone else. It all became completely meaningless to me.
So, as Aubree and I were sitting outside of Wawa at two in the morning, I think I figured it out. Of course, this was when we, being the awesome emotional masochists we are, looked through our old saved texts that should be deleted but aren't.
I have my standards set too high. I'm looking for something I had a little over a year ago. I want that, and I don't believe that there is anything like that out there, and, if there is, it's going to end the same way. So, I'm looking but ruining all my chances with these extraordinary standards that should never be fulfilled for reasons that nobody in the world can be that perfect, so obviously something horrible is going to go down.
Sexually, I'm confused as fuck. I don't even know anymore. I've given up with labels.

Current mental status: emotionally fucked.

]]> ~child-proof http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/25383134/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/25383134/ Wed, 17 Jun 2009 21:56:39 PDT One graduation, one party, and two birthdays down... one graduation to go.
I've been enjoying summer for the past, oh, I don't know, week or so?
xx
My accomplishments thus far:
`Being denied one job
`Applying to two
`Shooting two and a half rolls of film
`Drawing two pictures I'm actually proud of
`Completely an art project so terrible I have to redo it over the summer
`Sticking a piece of metal back into my lip (Pedro/Pocco lives!)
`Sleeping
`Watching the L Word like it's my new religion
xx
I'm really liking the last two pictures I did.I think I may experiment with that some more.
xx
Relationship status update: Still sucks. Came into Saxby's today and the cute boy was tehre. Unfortunatly, I was dressed dyke-to-the-max today. Fuck my life.

Family update: Mother is still over proctective and trying to run my life. Dad is planning to marry his Chinese girlfriend. Grandmother is back on her death bed. Woo.

Mental status update: Paranoia to the max. Nightmares of hell if I know what they are. Insomnia coming back.
xx

Oh, I still hate the human population in general.

Disclaimer: Maria has a bad tendency to think like a cynical, antisocial, sociopatheic bitch.

]]> ~child-proof http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/24689205/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/24689205/ Mon, 11 May 2009 14:05:38 PDT Crash, crash, crash.


<sub>Spring came, and it's starting to feel like summer (more so, it did. A lot like summer. Specifically the end where everything felt new and refreshing and full of potential and hope/ sappy optimistic thoughts). I'll eventually draw some more and upload, along with the rest of my psuedo photos from my Saturday classes.
I just took a long walk down to my bridge about a half of a mile down the road from me on the back road. I haven't been down there in a while. The last time was somewhere at the end of August or the beginning of September when I and someone else sat directly beneath the bridge listening to the cars roar over us (great day, it was). Every time I go down there I end up thinking about something. Whereas in September I was thinking about what I had then, this time all I could think about was how badly was I going to reek of cigarette smoke when I came back home, and how freaked out my mom would be if I fell asleep right there on the rocks near the creek (so i replace people with cigarettes... that isn't that bad, right? [yes]). I guess all I need to do is be more serious with things. Though I always frown upon people that don't take things seriously because I always do--everything I take seriously; when I hear/read that people had not taken things the same way as I did, well, /words/--it seems that recently I haven't (though I have a feeling that things would have had turned out worse if I did in this situation). this isn't going to make sense to anyone besides myself, once again. Although, my thoughts are always some sort of jumbled up crap. Fu-uck.

Things on my to-do list:
-Upload pictures
-Go boxer shopping
-Go people shopping
-Actually work on my term paper (for once)
-Get a job
-Get a life
--
"Bahahaha! Men and women having relationships?! I thought they just had sex."
--Dad.

--

I think I need to take a break from it all. I'm not going to go on for a while, don't expect me too, however I may just check messages real quick. (I love how I'm making it sound as if people actually read my journals but obviously don't.)</sub>

]]> ~child-proof http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/24433678/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/24433678/ Sat, 25 Apr 2009 19:14:34 PDT I must say, I am in a good mood. Fantastic, even. It seems like everything is falling into its place, and I like it--
I finally got some sort of recognition for my hard work on the set but not actually being on crew (Porges came to me after the play tonight and said I had kisses? Woah sweet. And a bunch, too).
It's nice out, and even though it was exceeding warm out and I wasn't a fan, I'm so happy that I can sleep with my windows open and listen to outside while I try to sleep. Also, I believe I saw thunder tonight :]. Yes...
Although my photo class is over, I'm really proud of the results I got. Good critique not only from the five other kids in my class, but also the teacher whom I expect to see this summer during the Summer Institute (ps- colour photo? Yes, win).
Although my mother and I got into (another) fight (surprising, eh?), she's still letting me go to prom next week. I have black hair dye, and the intent of short short short hair.
And lastly, I got the girl. (Je te feirait heureuse)
xx

_{Completely unrelated to anything written above, but just a bit of displeasure I would like to type out quickly: Seriously, you have problems. Stop being a womanizer. Stop delving into my business because there's a part of me that is convinced that the only reason you were rooting for it was because you think something else will happen; it will not.}

]]> ~child-proof http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/24150760/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/24150760/ Thu, 09 Apr 2009 16:47:27 PDT It's finally feeling like spring.

I have decided on a few things:
a) Girls are confusing as fuck. Like seriously. Stop being so bipolar--all of you.
b) Running is the work of the devil and I will never forgive myself for doing an actual sport this year instead of being lazy and doing yoga like I usually do.
c) Piggy-backing on that: There is no way in hell I'm going to be able to finish my damned sport requirement if I'm going to help with the play... like I usually kill myself doing.
d) Our school needs to allow e to drink coffee in the halls and waste their breathe scolding me on more useful things. Such as walking around barefoot, having multiple holes in my jeans that are visible when I sit cross legged exposing my pretty plaid boxers, and (oh, yeah) the fact that I'm totally breaking dress code by having a large piece of metal sticking out of my lower lip. Hmm.

I'm going to continue complaining about the fact that I still have yet to make my way to town and pick an application from Saxby's so I can finally pay my dad back for Scotland, and start saving for my pretty, pretty, pickup. Chyeah, I'm pysched.

Lalala, what else... speaking of money, I need to go flannel and boxer shopping. Lalala... I have a new-found obsession with Renee; it's a bit ridiculous. At least he keeps me company, and occupied.

Oh, here's something: A thousand apologies for my art-lack and submitting more lit, photos, and shit drawings than actual, semi-decent drawings. Art blocks are terrible, and I need to submit something or else I feel like I'm neglecting devART, even though it's pretty pointless as an art site, considering the amount of thirteen-year-old teenie shit people seem to enjoy uploading. But I'm not going to get into that discussion because it's going to trash like, everyone.

I've been in a really smiley mood lately. No idea why, though. Nothing is really going on, but I can't seem to stop smiling; it's nice :].

Off to attempt to stick a needle through my septum... again. Well, that is if I can find a good needle.

Oh, and a special thanks to all the Jews (which s like... seventy-five percent of AFS) for giving me two days and a weekend of laziness .

]]> ~child-proof http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/24079030/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/24079030/ Sun, 05 Apr 2009 16:03:32 PDT The adventures of a warm Sunday afternoon, a bored girl, and her flamboyantly,homosexual, gay-man, acoustic guitar, Renee.

Hey There, Marybeth.

G
Hey there, Marybeth
Em...................G
Looking fine on this funeral day
............................Em
'Coon eyes leaving childish swirls down you face
D7
You're such a pretty porcelain doll
Em.....................................G
With your matted hair and shit stained jeans



Hey there, Marybeth
Em...................................G
Won't you look your sequence eyes my way
...........................Em
We can run our mouths with swears
........................D7
Spit at those below our stature
..............................Em
And eat brunch with the devil at three
.............................G
Every Sunday in our coat and tails



Hey there, Mary Beth
Em
Drink some of this and be careful not to burn yourself
G............................Em
The ocean couldn't match the blues and greens on your face
D7
Mary-Jane, will help you Marybeth
Em
Let's make friends with them all
.....................G
And see our world in technicolour



Hey there, Marybeth
Em
You haven't looked healthier
G.......................Em
Your xalephone ribs are peeking through your shirt
..................D7
Let me climb down them
............................................Em
You make such pretty music like you've been playing for years
.................................G
Getting louder with every move I make



Hey there Marybeth
Em
I can't see you, I can't hear you
G....................Em
Come back, Marybeth, whenever you feel
............................D7
Your kingdom is waiting for you

And although I'll find others
Em
You'll always be my favourite

I'll miss playing crochet in our underwear.
xx

One day in February, I decided I was going to write my own songs which failed as soon as I decided I'm no good at guitar. I think I'm starting to pick it up again. Who knows, maybe I'll actually go somewhere this time (doubt it).

]]> ~child-proof http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/23631964/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/23631964/ Thu, 12 Mar 2009 16:03:09 PDT I don't know if I feel better or worse than I did last time I updated.
For those who do not know me (and care, for those who don't, I'm sorry for my constant whining journal entries), literally two days after I posted my last entry, my grandma was admitted to the Doylestown Hospital where she has been for about a week now. My family (mostly my mother and sister) have come into some conflict regarding my want to be left out of all this. They're finally getting it. I keep my distance with tech and dykes.

I'm almost out in my pack, even though Paul spotted me the three I budded her. They're not even 100s. Fuck I hope this ends soon before I die by thirty-five.

This whole thing has defiantly put me behind in all my schoolwork. I don't even remember the last time I've done homework... perhaps this is not a good thing. I've also been depriving myself of sleep, and barely get four-five hours a night, which for me doesn't work out very well especially because I have to wake up when it's dark now. It's really inconvenient. I almost missed my stop today because I fell asleep on the SEPTA.

My school is doing some strange all-school poetry night. I really wish I could do it, but reading through my folder on my desktop of poems I've written (some posted, some not) I've come to the conclusion that they suck, are too melodramatic and violent depressive, and should stay tucked away in my folder rather than be seen by others. I wish I could write like I once did. I wish I didn't trash and burn all my older poems that were actually somewhat suitable for others to see. I don't know. At this rate I'm considering just not doing it. I may go, though.

Prom is in two months. I have the greatest date ever. The fucking committee is falling behind.
Who wants to go diner-hoping afterwards? I think so.

In other news:
Spontaneous dyke cut put off for a later date. Just until all this family crap is sorted out. Shag cut and black hair dye? Yes...

Over and out.
--
[edit]
My gram came back from the hospital yesterday. I don't know how she's doing; I can't really tell. She's the same as before her stay. Fuck doctors (they're loaded .

]]> ~child-proof http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/23419367/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/23419367/ Thu, 26 Feb 2009 16:26:56 PST I've come to a strange point in my life, and I think the oddest part of it is that I cannot tell whether it is a good point or not.
I have come to a realisation that almost sickens me, because I have always hoped that I would never reach this point, but unfortunately I have. I have always been annoyed by teenagers who think like this, but I cannot help myself but to. i don't know what did it-- whether it be the inability to talk, or the distrust, or something else that I'm completely missing, but there it is, and considering nine months utero can't change how I feel and this relationship (prastee menya; ya obblanula kada ya skazala shto tam yest mesta dla teba b'mayum jeeznee).
And another one, yet this one is more frightening than anything else. My grandmother has always been there for me. She was the one who would take care of me when I was younger. She had gone though a series of very unfortunate events which have left her crippled for the past five or so years. She was fine in the beginning, however a couple hospital visits later, and some news that should not have leaked that had had left her confined to her room. Before, when she would say she was going to die, I would tell her to stop being ridiculous, and stop scaring us with BS like that. Now, there's a part of me that cringes because I realise that she will not be living until she is one-hundred sixty like I told her she will. She celebrated her eighty-ninth birthday last week but was too weak, ad sick to come down to actually celebrate it. She has been doing worse ever week, and I sometimes fear that she will not be there when I graduate high school and that scares me. So much. I have forced myself to stay away from her so I do not think about it, though I know later on I will regret it greatly.
And there's something else, though I don't feel like talking about it God forbid I kill anything to death.
Karma has been getting the best of me lately, and i think she should go jump off a cliff and entertain herself some instead of bothering me.
My photo class is going fine. It's a lot more independent, and care-free and I really enjoy that. I have yet to finished my damn apps for the Summer Institute at UArts which will end up being the death of me.
Speaking of summer, I should get on applying to Saxby's.

Sorry for my venting. DevART is good for that :].
[link]

]]> ~child-proof http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/23176582/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/23176582/ Fri, 13 Feb 2009 14:56:08 PST
1. Introduction
2. Love
3. Light
4. Dark
5. Seeking Solace
6. Break Away
7. Heaven
8. Innocence
9. Drive
10. Breathe Again
11. Memory
12. Insanity
13. Misfortune
14. Smile
015. Silence
16. Questioning
17. Blood
18. Rainbow
19. Gray
20. Fortitude
21. Vacation
22. Mother Nature
23. Cat
24. No Time
25. Trouble Lurking
26. Tears
27. Foreign
28. Sorrow
29. Happiness
30. Under the Rain
31. Flowers
32. Night
33. Expectations
34. Stars
35. Hold My Hand
36. Precious Treasure
37. Eyes
38. Abandoned
39. Dreams
40. Rated
41. Teamwork
42. Standing Still
43. Dying
44. Two Roads
45. Illusion
46. Family
47. Creation
48. Childhood
49. Stripes
50. Breaking the Rules
51. Sport
52. Deep in Thought
53. Keeping a Secret
54. Tower
55. Waiting
56. Danger Ahead
57. Sacrifice
58. Kick in the Head
59. No Way Out
60. Rejection
61. Fairy Tale
62. Magic
63. Do Not Disturb
64. Multitasking
65. Horror
66. Traps
67. Playing the Melody
68. Hero
69. Annoyance
70. 67%
71. Obsession
72. Mischief Managed
73. I Can't
74. Are You Challenging Me?
75. Mirror
76. Broken Pieces
77. Test
78. Drink
79. Starvation
80. Words
81. Pen and Paper
82. Can You Hear Me?
83. Heal
84. Out Cold
85. Spiral
86. Seeing Red
87. Food
88. Pain
89. Through the Fire
90. Triangle
91. Drowning
92. All That I Have
93. Give Up
94. Last Hope
95. Advertisement
96. In the Storm
97. Safety First
98. Puzzle
99. Solitude
100. Relaxation

]]> ~child-proof http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/23123048/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/23123048/ Tue, 10 Feb 2009 15:03:25 PST Raunchy high school kids are known for being vocal . We are known to challenge whatever is given to us, at times, in a tabooed fashion. So when we began discussion about America in my small history class, children chaotically arranged in a lopsided circle, we began with the constitution: the embodiment of this country’s freedom. It was a short, half page response to “What is your favourite Bill of Right?” which, obviously, the chosen one was the First Amendment concerning freedom of speech, religion, and press. It was more focused on a tabooed subject, rather than the profanity which was the first idea which popped into my head (this is not saying that profanity wasn't included considering the boldfaced swear that sat behind the title). This country was founded on religion, more specifically the Christian faith, which from my youth I have opposed. The church was led by a wanker who preached a religion that excluded most everyone and to an extent promoted cannibalism. As I saw the other students' not as straight-to-the-point fulfillment of the assignment to illustrate their amendments, mine was missing-in-action. I received it in the beginning of class. Scribbled across the top in the famously intimidating red-ink was “Good. But not in school. 5/5.”
As much as I would love to believe that I can go around saying whatever I want to in the halls of the school, and the world, I know that I cannot. I do not have the equal say in what I do not believe in, as those who stand on Market in the bitter cold preaching how Our Saviour, Jesus Christ, is coming to save us all. I can stand yelling how everyone is wasting their lives following such useless beliefs, and then be trampled by all those who oppose me. I still am bitter about my assignment which never utilized that wall space.
Similarly, I have always leaned towards, potentially, tabooed subjects in the major art class which I cannot help myself but to take. Art is an expression of ourselves. It is not something that can ever be censored by society. There is always deeper meaning that ignorance people who deem themselves the “Censorship Police” and attempt to approve or deny any work will never understand. With permission from the admin, technically speaking, anything can be created and displayed in our halls. As long as it is not something controversial, or frightening towards the small children which we share the school with, it is fine to display. Though, true art is not something that looks pretty and peaceful. It is not the decorative basket of fruit that someone was able to draw with photographic perfection. There once in the halls stood a two foot tall coffin filled with a large Barbie doll. Hands sawed off, and red nail polish blood meticulously placed. This is the kind of work that requires more discussion than the skin-covered Buffalo Bill mailbox that the children are much too stupid to realise what it actually is. This is the kind of art that goes into the rarely spoken about expressions of self-hatred and masochism that is an issue many adolescents put themselves into. It is the kind of expression that need to be shown and not covered up. It was displayed for the short amount of time that it took the other sections of the art department to create something, and the little ones were not allowed to be led through that hallways by their teachers during its display.
I am not one to censor any of my work. So when given the assignment of dirtying my fingers with soft pastels to draw a zoomed-in drawing, I automatically went to my cancer-filled friends to take a picture of the wisps of smoke which emitted from their mouths. Almost all of my friends have polluted their lungs with nicotine, and it is an everyday occurrence to s... ]]> ~child-proof http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/22984527/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/22984527/ Tue, 03 Feb 2009 13:51:28 PST
Make a heart (the real kind with atrium's and ventricles, and blood veins), give it feathers for wings, and stitches where the tears are, and carve out a room in the center (empty with walls of the deepest blue).
Put in a little sign saying "someday you will be loved"
and another one saying "you can do better than me, but I can't do better than you."



I hate waiting, but I think I got the idea. Thanks.
Goodbye.

]]> ~child-proof http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/22849239/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/22849239/ Tue, 27 Jan 2009 17:49:32 PST There's a point in life when people come to the realisation of something not being right, and that that something needs to change. At this moment in time, I wish I could change everything.
I wish I could change who I am, which, in short, is a cynical, overly sarcastic, wise-ass fuck. There are things that I need to learn to keep to myself and not break under pressure.
Currently, I'm trying to keep my sanity by locking myself in my room. Never in my life have I ever wanted to just walk out that door than I do right now.
I just... wish I could erase myself and start over. Become a better friend, daughter, and human in general.
I'm so sorry.
I should learn to keep my mouth shut, no matter how much I do not want to (I should continue others' wills because mine fuck everyone over).

]]> ~child-proof http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/22786512/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/22786512/ Sat, 24 Jan 2009 16:39:25 PST Yes I disappeared, and I don't care if you want me to come back I don't want to. I'm planing to out as soon as I can, anyway. Fuck, if you think I'm living here until I'm married. I'm not getting married, and I'm sure as hell not living there for the rest of my life.

But unfortunately, I get kicked out by the end of the weekend, and am forced to anyway.

]]> ~child-proof http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/22715021/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/22715021/ Wed, 21 Jan 2009 14:22:38 PST Collecting them like wishes in a little red box
The old ones shifting to the bottom, belly up eyes crossed
The best ones sewn up, taxidermied, with pretty sequence eyes
Tacked up to the sides and left for dust, and dust, and dust.
Like all my collections end up as./



Blah.
I don't like midterms.

]]> ~child-proof http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/22632529/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/22632529/ Sat, 17 Jan 2009 11:55:53 PST Ran out of room on my fingers
Down to my toes
Still not enough
Carved it on the wall
And now the dry wall's crackin'
Took a pen and wrote it on my skin
Now I'm stained with a million lines
Days don't matter no more
I don't got you.

I've been more content lately. I don't know what happened these weeks. Been down for no reason, getting in over my head socially, emotionally, physically. I've been reintroduced to the wonders of full-nights of sleep. Started drawing again (though I don't like any of my products so far :/ ). I honestly don't know what did get to me. But, yeah.

"Studying" for midterms. "Writing" and "finishing" my epic philosophy paper. Who knows, maybe I won't half-ass it this time.

I need to get out of the house. See more people.

]]> ~child-proof http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/22262015/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/22262015/ Mon, 29 Dec 2008 13:58:27 PST Really thinking about it, it's a need really, though of what I do not know (I got smashed two nights in a row, and lost track of how many cigarettes I smoked that night-- most likely close to half a pack. These did not fill my need). I'm in an artist's block, and am extremely unmotivated to finish this damn mailbox project for school (I have the final layer on the balloon drying, still need to add more to the body, finish the hind-legs, and actually start on the front legs, neck, and head. Oh joyous joy).
I've been spending my days sitting on my bed with Renee, and trying to prefect some songs I once played.
My mother came home yesterday, and within the first twenty minutes of her being home, we got into an argument.
I think I just need to get out again.

]]> ~child-proof http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/22172591/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/22172591/ Wed, 24 Dec 2008 17:34:15 PST
Speaking of guitars, I've been playing my acoustic a lot more recently, though I can only play one song. I feel so cool (except not really at all) (though it is fun walking through Wegman's with it and seeing people's reactions).

Happy belated winter solstice to everyone, by the way.

Schedule for this week?
Tonight: Hanging around my dad's house; Sleeping at home.
Tomorrow: Sister is coming here, celebrating Christmas with Babool (who acts like the biggest four-year-old at times, and the fact that I hate little kids, especially four-year-olds doesn't help much); Heading over to sister's and receiving my gifts; Cooking for her party on Saturday; Staying there.
Friday: Cooking in the morn; Coming home/spending time with Dad; Papier Mache/ Dance Party; Staying at home.
Saturday: Heading over to sister's again; More cooking; Partying/ watching people get drunk; Taking embarrassing photos and videos to later post on Facebook; Perhaps joining in on the fun; Staying there.
Sunday: Laughing at people's hang overs, going boarding with my dad.

Oh dear. Someone feel like kidnapping me in between?

]]> ~child-proof http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/21936544/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/21936544/ Sun, 14 Dec 2008 12:22:41 PST
So, I received my score for the PSAT and all I can say is epil fail much? 158, 69th percentile, and apparently I need to work on my "Understanding of sentences relating to the arts," hah. My mother has put me on house arrest: this supposedly constitutes as me being untrustworthy (oh as if I haven't heard that one before). What surprises me, though, is that she is still allowing me to host my papier mache/ dance party on the twenty-sixth, even though she's going to be out of the country, and I have the house to myself (other than my sickly grandmother I will need to take care of. Perhaps I can give her an extra Perk to knock her out. That was so horrible, wasn't it...). Anyone who wants to join can come, just tell me.

Also speaking of grades, my going back to public school may/not still apply. I talked to Don Kaplan today during the first part of lunch to get something. I wasn't looking for goodwill (he told me he wasn't planning on giving me any, and I told him I wasn't expecting any), though I think a bit more than "Hey, you haven't been doing your work. Perhaps start to?" would have helped. He's given me the entire winter break to finish any missed homework assignments for half credit, so at least I have that much.

I'm still jittery. God damn.

My last UArts class is this Saturday, which sort of upsets me. I actually really enjoyed that class; it was really laid back, and relaxed, and even though I had to wake up early and it was like a six-day week for me, it was nice. Unfortunately, me being in freaking California and missing a damn class, in about thirty minutes I need to produce three semi-okay-decent prints because Donna Russo doesn't trust me with the school's dark room, and the photo kids aren't reliable when you ask them to sit with you. Thanks a lot, guys. Way to be sexing than helping someone out. That's cool, I guess.

I think my mother wants to sent me back to therapy. Woo.

I have, once again, discovered the wonders of make-up. No more purple hand
xx

So, I really need to learn to use my brain and not do things when I have the potential to not get away with it. Ria, you are so stupid at times.
My mother doesn't trust me anymore.
No more going into the city by myself. Great.

Now the only question is whether or not I will still be able to do the Summer Institute this summer. Hmm.
xx

Oh yeah. My mother also thinks I'm a drug addict.

]]> ~child-proof http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/21668394/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/21668394/ Tue, 25 Nov 2008 17:25:57 PST
I hate it how everyone is asking me what happened. I hate how everytime I repeat myself, I feel like slamming my head onto a concrete wall. Everyone calls you a jerk, and I keep telling them otherwise. I'm glad i didn't have that pillow talk, it would have killed me all over again.

I hate the way my fingers have memorized your face. I want them to forget, but they can't.

I hate the way I can't listen to my favourite bands without my chest tightening with fond memories of you. I hate how your voice goes on loop in my mind, and I can't make it stop.

I hate it how my aunt running her hands through my wet hair reminds me of all the times I would continue to feel your fingers on my neck days after I would see you. Your hair was always so soft, it was my favourite thing to play with.

I hate it how I had to get new shoes to make me stop thinking of all the times you told me I was beautiful. Except it makes things worse because they're the same as yours, only smaller.

I hate it how even after four days, I'm still the same mess I was twenty minutes after it sunk in.

I hate how many times I've wanted to smoke, but can't because you were teh only one who smoked the same brand as me. And my mother would yell at me again, and I'd probably go into a hysterical fit again. Except you're not here to make things better.

I hate how much I want to hear your voice, but physically, and mentally can't. I'd probably cry. And crying is a sign of weakness. I hate how you've seen me at my weakest, something I don't want anyone to ever see.

I hate it how the scars my my legs remind me of everyone who has ever hurt me. But I could never taint your name with blood. I'm over that kind of couping. Way over that.

I hate how I hate myself for missing you to death. I've never been good at lying, you know. Espeically to myself.

]]> ~child-proof http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/21552763/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/21552763/ Tue, 18 Nov 2008 15:17:49 PST I do not need you taking em out of the class and saying how I am disrespectful because I rolled my eyes at you when you told us to leave. You are not the first person I rolled my eyes at. Get used to it.
I have never been known to submit to an authority figure. I do not need you telling me about how my behavior not only makes you look bad, but also me. But mostly you. I am not a disrespectful person. I am just outspoken, and at times too honest. If I deem what you have to tell me as useless, I am sorry I make it so obvious. Next time I'll smile.
I am not arrogant, and calling me that is most possibly the biggest insult anyone can give me. I am not arrogant. Arrogance is the one thing i cannot stand.
I do not need to you to assume anything about my relationship with my mother. First off, because it is none of your business how i treat my mother. Furthermore, having the nerve to tell me that you remind me of my mother, and that is why is I supposedly disrespected you is complete bullshit. I do not disrespect my mother. Yes she is insane, and no you have not seen us argue. In the short interchange of words you have seen me and my mother have, never have I once acted the same way as when we are fighting. And if you have the nerve to claim you accusations of me being disrespectful towards my mother came about me not doing EXTREMELY well in school, while she goes off spending 15000 in my HIGH SCHOOL tuition, I must reply saying that is completely inappropriate to include, and it is none of your business.
Also, I do not need to be compared to you. If I remind you so much of yourself, then why are you yelling at me?
The fact that a simple eye roll was taken as a slap in the face, I am seriously concerned about your emotional state. If you had to go to the dean of students due to you inability to suck it up, then obviously you haven't learned life's greatest lesson: Just because you see yourself as an authority figure, does not mean people will respect you. Life's tough. Not everyone listens. It's pointless to waste your energy on such meaningless bullshit.
I am not a leader. No one ever listens to what I have to say. It is unfair to single me because I apparently led the group to not get up and leave. Everyone have mutual feelings about the situation. None of us were going to get up. I was just the only one who was vocal about it. I had the same amount of control over the situation as everyone else. It is an insult to everyone else to say that they followed me. You are assuming that everyone at that table didn't have the capacity to make their own decisions. I would like to believe that at least the people I associate with have some free will.
I do not deserve a detention for this. I thank you for not giving me one.
I will not further this conversation. It is done. Over with. What respect i have for, is now gone.
Stop being so weak.

]]> ~child-proof http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/21097179/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/21097179/ Tue, 21 Oct 2008 15:26:53 PDT
Secondly, it's finally autumn, which makes me really, really happy for a few reasons (one of which being my birthday) (not to sound all arrogant) (I mean seriously, everyone's favourite season is usually the one their born in. Or am i smoking something weird?). So yes, finally cold weather. Shawoots

Thirdly, I'm currently taking a photo class in UArts, which is sort of weird. I think I'm too much of a painter to do this. Oh well. My Olympus needs to be properly operated.

Fourthly, my sister got a new dog. It's a French bulldog [link] ain't she a cutie?

365 days until I'm legal.
Hoo-raah

]]> ~child-proof http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/20598037/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/20598037/ Sun, 21 Sep 2008 08:30:01 PDT
a) Majority of my artwork is of guys. I do not draw girls, other than [link] and [link] .
Further more, mostof my drawing are, more specifically, of guys with no shirts on. I don't know why, I just get too lazy to draw cloths.

b) My artwork is also uber stylised. For those too stupid to notice, I draw people very... curvy. Mostly because I have a tendency to draw people who look as if they haven't eaten in months. I do not promote anorexia, I just enjoy drawing it.

c) I can, in fact, draw realism. I just prefer not posting my portfolio pieces because I know I will not get as much response as with my non-realism.

d) I do not like drawing, I prefer painting. Just somethings are easier drawn, and the only paints i have at home are acrylics.

e) I freaking hate acrylics. They dry much too fast, and they are not nearly as much fun as oils are.

f) I have tendencies to draw people from that impossible looking-up-at-them angle. I know it's wrong. Also, i cannot draw hands.

g) There are faces. Jesus fuck people look.



ps, I woke up this morning with a nice little mark on my neck.

]]> ~child-proof http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/20360019/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/20360019/ Sat, 06 Sep 2008 15:14:46 PDT
School is wonderful other than the whole waking-up-at-five-thirty-deal. History is a big class with people whom I don't really care for. Chem is, well. Math is epic. I'm signed into two different English classes, though I'm planning on just staying in Don's because I do NOT want a Russian English teacher. Art and Philosophy are going to be epic.

Retreat was... different. Apparently there are people who have never been on a Septa before..? Never knew that. Painting and getting my Bandage tydyed was fun

My finger got slammed in the door of my dad's box, and I didn't notice until a few seconds later and then was unable to open the door. Thankgod it was on my LEFT hand. So yea, typing is not very easy.

The space button on my cell phone is refusing to work and so text messaging has become a pain in the arse

Doing three things at once is not fun.

This being junior year and all, I'm a bit scared on how things are going to go. I have a tendency to do okay first quarter, and then have grades just go downhill, and that would be bad. Very, very, very bad.

My art teacher outside of school has informed me that UArts is not a good school to go to for Fine Art. FTW. She has also mentioned that her daughter majored in graphic design and i think she was trying to tell me i should too. My mother and sister hate my plans. My dad wants me to stop painting from pictures and only from life. Is not happy about how things are going. (PS WHO WANTS TO BE MY MODEL?!)

I had my first lullaby sung to me last night, which, not going to lie, still makes me a bit happy on the inside.

I uploaded two drawings, one of which is from the end of sophomore year, and so it still has that weird cartoon-y style that I had. I'm a bit happy my style somewhat changed.

My room at my dad's house had NOT, I repeat, has NOT been bombarded by stink bugs... just yet. I'm thinking about getting a venusflytrap, though my dad thinks that even that won't protect my room.

]]> ~child-proof http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/20184220/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/20184220/ Wed, 27 Aug 2008 12:52:23 PDT
"Write a 1-2 page type-written essay on why you would like to attend the University of the Arts Pre-college Saturday School and how a scholarship will make that possible."

it's a bit less than a page :/
and please keep in mind it's been three months since i've actually thought. just saying

***
She has been drawing since before she learned her alphabet. Has intertwined interesting colour combination to make that “certain mood that’s hard to describe” since before she knew how to tie her boot lace. And yet, sixteen years of practice, and multiple classes has yet to teach her how to do all that and more correctly. The way she conducts herself ensures everyone of her path, and of her want of going to a school where she’ll spend her next four years coordinating, drawing, and being able to express the human body through a range of unexplainable emotions. She knows she has some potential, she knows how close she is to being able to get on top. Though, through a series of very unfortunate events, she has landed in a situation where money is an issue.
Last year, through the great generosity of the University of the Arts, she was able to take Figure Drawing, which opened up a world of proportions, and a greater understanding of the human body. After taking that class, her out-of-school art teacher began to notice her improvement in drawing in proportions. Since her schedule at school is booked with drawing, and painting classes, she is unable to improve one of her many hobbies: photography. She has always been a fan of film photography, though was never able to take a class in it, to learn the real art, learn how to properly focus, expose, and print. Her “Botox“-virgin father had a great influence in this hobby; his many trips to online auctions to find that perfect “100% manual” film camera has not only introduced her to the art of photography, and not just typical “MySpace” shots with a low-quality digital camera, but has also left a bit of a dent in her spending. The price of a good camera is like the cost of good schooling: usual expensive is good.
She had gone her entire life in large, overly-crowded public school, filled with nonsense kids, and teachers who really didn’t give a damn about the lessons. She had gone through bomb-threats, and multiple fires at the high schools, which were directly varied with the suicides. But one year, that all stopped. Through a series of unfortunate events, she found herself out of a loud cube building, to a small, quiet Friends’ school. Not only did the atmosphere take some getting-use-to, but also the cost. Though she misses the chaos of public school, she enjoys her new surrounding. And though her parents love the idea of her going to a “college preparatory school,” they hate the dent it leaves in the bank account. Even with paying just partial tuition, they have trouble paying the cost, and her father’s love of cameras, and her love of art, doesn’t do much to help the situation.
In the end, her love of art, and her want to improve as much as possible makes Pre-college Saturday Schooling a perfect opportunity. She had learned through the program once, and has no doubt she will learn more from another semester. Her love of art which can rack up a cost of $200 dollars at Utrecht for bare minimums, her father’s love of photography which she constants curses at, and the cost of her schooling make a full-scholarship an ideal plan.


oh, and also, i have an extra application for UArta, if anyone wants it. it's not full scholarship, but it does have a 100 dollar scholarship form with it. if there' more than one person who wants it, i don't know, samurai sword fight to the death or something.

]]> ~child-proof http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/20024748/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/20024748/ Mon, 18 Aug 2008 14:47:17 PDT

So, a few concerns:
a) The big still life photos of dolls fad on dA, was neat when it started, but now it getting old, and quite annoying. Yes your dolls are beautiful, stop taking pictures of them.
b) the new layout for "Submit Deviation" is weird, primitive looking, and I don't like it one bit. Like seriously, it looks like MySpace's first layout for submitting photos, which was the simplest thing ever.
c) The fact that our school schedule's don't tell us what levels we have things, and so I was forced to figure out what I have and when via purple sheet of paper, aka the "Master Schedule." My schedule was posted on both MySpace, and Facebook for those who are curious. I think my frees are level eight all year, and level three second semester.
d) I want to be back in the UK. The soda here sucks. And finally...
e) I hate the timing of the end of my trip, and the beginning of Raph's. ftw.

]]> ~child-proof http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/19748880/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/19748880/ Sun, 03 Aug 2008 08:38:44 PDT
]]> ~child-proof http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/19612273/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/19612273/ Sat, 26 Jul 2008 19:17:12 PDT maria likes today
maria wishes she wasn't grounded so she could go to rainbow room and be happy again.
maria's face is numb from smiling, and her stomach hurts from all the butterflies.

]]> ~child-proof http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/19497515/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/19497515/ Sun, 20 Jul 2008 10:02:23 PDT
]]> ~child-proof http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/19314539/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/19314539/ Thu, 10 Jul 2008 16:35:30 PDT
so we were strolling about ground zero because my cousin was oh-so-fascinated with some world trade center museum. lemme tell you this: we had to pay five bucks per person to get in, and along the way, we were pulled over by at east ten people trying to sell souvenirs. so a huge traumatic incidence happened, and suddenly new york has found yet another way to make large amounts of cash other than selling faux bags on fifth ave. what the fuck.

ps, the new new jersey transit double-decker buses are NICE.

and also, don't use the poles in the new york subway as strip poles... or at least pretending they are.


edit: what? this is weird...

]]> ~child-proof http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/19048227/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/19048227/ Wed, 25 Jun 2008 22:58:08 PDT another note: sirens, my summer home, is dead. 'nuff said, i'm pissed/uber sad.
also speaking of doylestown, rainbow room kicked, and ahaha puppeh you didn't go. i 've got me some hXc planned parenthood mint flavoured GREEN condoms which i inflated at the train station. twas fun.

new favourite band much?
echo and the bunnymen. check them.

]]> ~child-proof http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/18913808/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/18913808/ Wed, 18 Jun 2008 14:39:24 PDT
hm, bon ou non?

]]> ~child-proof http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/18891237/ http://child-proof.deviantart.com/journal/18891237/ Tue, 17 Jun 2008 11:29:32 PDT

sorry for the mega dump

]]> ~child-proof