deviantART: by:iSqueex

Chapter Close

~iSqueex — Sun, 21 Jun 2009 19:23:30 PDT

Nights Of Intrigue...

It was about that journal entry that I met him, my dearest little wrecking ball of contentment. Contentment should never be striven for, for once you reach it where else is there to go? What else do you need? When you are fulfilled you are of use to no one, you make no moves forward you make no moves back, change is slow and steady, apathy reigns.
I make it sound dire, but I'm happy. So happy I don't need to draw, I need boredom and sadness to put pen to paper and it's just not there anymore. And it's not hopeless fancy pants happy either...not a raging storm of emotion just a pleasant feeling deep inside like a sedative. The kind of so-long-as-i-have-food-and-TV-I'm-fine happiness that stops humankind progressing.
I am progressing still just not the same way as I used to. Instead of running with my own feet it's like sinking comfortably into a car seat, being pulled back with the g-force. Sure I'll get further but will I see all those little details on the way?

There's always a chance of a breakdown I suppose.

I doubt it though. I met old friend at an even older friends party and simultaneously remembered why I hated and loved my old life. Now that was something fucked up, that was progress of the most horrifying kind, that was elation and debasement on a daily basis. Still, it was a rut of it's own kind. Maybe everything we do is just headed for mediocrity in the end. Einstein may have been a genius, but kids still fall asleep in class when the teachers yakking on about him.

[im not uneasy, my computers fucking around]

Movement

~iSqueex — Wed, 14 Jan 2009 20:38:51 PST

I've been having an eventful time since I last wrote...I wont bore anyone with details, but several disagreements among close kin has resulted in my moving from home to an old acquaintances (acquaintance is the wrong word really). I'm immensely enjoying it so far. One of the best thing is getting rid of all the little things I never really needed. Condensing your life down to a few suitcases and boxes is refreshing somehow.
In fact, with an internet-less computer I've actually got some work done - with enough boring days, who knows, I may even begin writing again. Eventually.
At the moment I'm in a little internet cafe in town. I'd like to come here more often if I wasn't terrified of running into my ex.
Hopefully sometime during this or next week I'll find my USB (the plucky thing went through the wash without losing one file) and upload some stuff.

December

~iSqueex — Wed, 24 Dec 2008 00:32:20 PST

I have plenty to share today
First, there is the birthday just passed a few days ago now, resulting in a beautiful but oversised ring (which gives the illusion of a small, legless, diamond encrusted reptile curled comfortably around my digit), a simple but rather elegant necklace which of course, suits nothing in my cupboard (shall have to wear it only in the absence of clothes) and a tablet. The tablet is, for obvious reasons, my most coveted item. Unfortunately I've not been able to use it yet due to the people that are suddenly...not abundant...shall we say constant? Yes, one or two, always constant. Almost always male. I really don't plan it that way. But females always seem a bit...tacky? to me. I just don't cope well with girly chatter. That's my defense anywho.
If you ask anyone else, it's just promiscuity.

So tomorrow's the big day...If you're so inclined. Personally, I am. Nothing pleases me more than badly wrapped parcels to rip open. To be honest I think we'd all be happier (and richer) if we just brought empty boxes and wrapped them in the most garish things so that we could have all the more fun ripping and tearing that paper off. I hate people that pick...so delicately...at the strings and tape...Like it's going to make a difference. Like the three bucks they spent isn't just going in the bin. Like it matters.

Oh and the lights, they're my other favorite part. One house in particular, that's just a bit our of town...The ceiling in their garage impresses me the most...all covered in fake greenery and baubles and lights...Reminds me of when there was more stars in the sky. Just that it's fake and better. I felt a little under dressed in my work uniform, which resembles a large piece of navy material with sleeves for my spindly arms to stick out of.

Oh
I forgot to mention my baby.
I have purchased a laptop. An Asus, already covered with fingerprints and quickly filling to capacity as I upload my cd collection. I can tell we are going to have a beautiful relationship.

Melancholy laced with hope

~iSqueex — Mon, 24 Nov 2008 23:59:20 PST

Be warm....That's a sweet thing
to say to someone
I think.
I'll use it one day,
to make someone fall
in love with me.
Or everyone.
I love how the
English language
puts some words together
so effortlessly
like that, so that you'd never think of words
like 'everyone' being two
separate parts.
'Everyone' is just a whole unit.

Thought I liked that title
until I typed it.
Now it seems rather
hopelessly cliched.

I think I may
actually go
do something productive
now.

nights of intrigue...

~iSqueex — Sat, 01 Nov 2008 20:34:09 PDT

The stats from the past few days:

5 hours sleep within two days - maximum
one party
seven hours heavy box lifting
two hangovers
many kisses
no artistic inclinations
some rejection
two naked males
dancing
no sexual intercourse
some loneliness
some affection
stories which after one week are already becoming old
dance music
absent parents
a need to document everything
interesting new drinks
none of which are as foul as absinthe
making them slip down my throat as easily as a glass of milk

a sense of being alive

Definition

~iSqueex — Sat, 27 Sep 2008 02:16:19 PDT

Definition of an artist-

Someone who takes a look at the smaller things in life, someone who notices the pattens in the sand or the colours of the fly on the dogshit (if you didn't see the dog, how do you know it's dogshit?).

or

someone who captures a moment the truest

or

Someone who paints beautiful things, with great skill, infusing emotion into the scene, even if it was never present.

or

someone who targets issues with confronting images.

or

Someone who cuts cows in half and puts them in formaldehyde?

Just joking.
I love damien hirst. or hurst. pretty sure that's with an 'i.' Pretty sure you don't really care. Pretty sure I could have looked it up on google. Pretty sure I can't be bothered.

I'm [ugly] sure I should go finish my painting which may be done with some kind of skill, hopefully portraying something beautiful, but at the same time capturing an issue which some may find confronting that may just be suspended in formaldehyde upon its completion. And it focuses on a small part of my irrational insanity.

The Ugliest Fingernail

~iSqueex — Tue, 16 Sep 2008 02:58:29 PDT

I've had the most enormous transfiction with piercings, tattoos and scarification lately...though I must admit, a little less transfiction on the scarification (I still want to know how they get those raised scabs though). I met a woman once, my mothers age, maybe a little more whom I had an animated talk with about the prospects of putting a hole in the cartilage of one's ear with a household hole puncher. It was rather entertaining. Also, the flailing of arms and screaming and laughing, though we were surely less than a foot from one another...It's always nice to find another one who appreciates a good drink.

Seeing as my own options are limited, having made a promise to get no more surface piercings (and I only have one!) and not being quite of the age to have any imagery transferred to myself, I've decided just to content myself with painting what I want...for now. Should the agreement end, a piercer will be the first person to know. I can have a good whine as a swear like a sailor.

Would you believe, my future is actually looking quite promising? I may just be able to do something other than teaching little runts all my life...that would be nice. Lets admit it, all I really want is a change of scene anyway.

Dyke Spike

~iSqueex — Thu, 04 Sep 2008 06:01:00 PDT

....I want it back so bad.
I miss black hair that was straight. Peroxide horrifys' me, prom is ridiculous, hair extensions revolt me and hair dressers are appalling beings.

Sorry to bother people with something so trivial.
But goddamnit I miss looking like a lesbian.
Maybe I should just shave it off. And leave a strip down the middle.

Fuck yes.

Gauche

~iSqueex — Thu, 28 Aug 2008 06:13:03 PDT

Cable TV is fascinating.
I never would have believed people cared so little about their dignity. Anything for a buck I suppose. Mum picked the virgin to date her son - I'm shocked. The boyfriends a cunt, the girlfriends a snide little bitch, the mothers a control freak and the dad is bored. Americans are freaks. No offense...unless you're American. Anyway, I was distracted by the people who think yoga is a good activity for a date.I have paints. proper. acceptable. quality. Gauche acrylics. Primary colours, black and white. I should have got the crap ones to muck around with, but I'm an idiot. It cost me almost forty bucks just for five small tubes.(fuck, what the hell is WITH these people!? You date someone, albeit a snide bitch, for eight month, and the first chick your mother picks out for you you cum your pants? Grow some balls. And big blue eyes? How about Big Bouncy Boobs)I don't know why I'm so bitter right now. Failing social life? A little worse than usual, but when isn't it. Love life?
Brilliant. School work?. Pointless. Art? um. I can't read. I'm turning this off. Music on. By the way, sorry for my standards in the past. And sorry for my lack of standards in the past. Lets admit it, as I was blubbering a few nights ago, (so I'm told - don't remember much of what I said) everything is more or less my fault. That means something different to everyone, but it's all relevant. Sometimes you feel like things have changed for no particular reason. Or that they've changed for so many reasons.
Or two things change almost simultaneously and people come along and all of a sudden you realize that everything is just relativity - time is just dependent on the relation of a clocks hands and the suns rise and fall, space is just the relation between two objects, direction is just the relation between north and south and you are just the relation between other people. All anyone is is a composite of different events that shaped their perceptions. So you, the individual you, what makes you special...it's about as real as time or space or direction. So no ones life had direction because there is no such thing. When you're in a fragile...that's not the best word. (but, it's the first that comes to mind)...state even small encounters shake your foundations. It's amazing there isn't more insanity in the world. I want a bigger vocabulary. Or just some lists of synonyms. I'm going back again but in more of a healthier way than any of the other digressions. I want to get pregnant and raise my child in a slum. Just to see if love is a stronger event than environment. A relativity test with people. I shall be the next Einstein. Well, maybe I don't. But, it would be interesting. Though I suppose you would need to test it on a larger scale, just in case a mothers love was lacking, or a slum was suddenly overcome with community spirit. It's late. that's why I'm weird. I normally at least act normal, or what passes of as it.

To conclude:
sycophant.
Just because it's an awesome word.

moving vehicles

~iSqueex — Tue, 05 Aug 2008 20:08:43 PDT

A few nights ago, I had one of those wonderful moments of contentment that seem to always happen in moving vehicles (the last one was in grade 9, traveling home from a school excursion). We were going to the beach for no reason in particular, listening to placebo and queen and slipknot, talking and laughing and singing and feeling a bit tipsy and holding hands. And using 'and' far to many times in one sentence. (For dramatic purposes, of course). One of those moment where you almost want an oncoming truck to hit you just so things can never go down.

They did, the very next morning in fact. Not that it would interest you.

What will interest you is [link] (Go to FEATURES>SHORTS>GUTS). Trust me.
I think so far the rate for passing out(s?) at readings is 93 or 94. I'm considering doing it for my English assignment - unfortunately, I'm not quite sure if it cover the criteria. So it seems I'm stuck with Aspergers boy.

My art assignment is going far to well. I seem to actually be doing a good job. Unfortunately, I sucked but to much earlier in the year so I'm not going to get top of subject or anything snazzy like that.

I haven't been around much, and most likely wont be for some time - working, school and sex/love has me all busy.

The Last Legal Drug

~iSqueex — Thu, 10 Jul 2008 06:48:13 PDT

My boyfriend showed me bme pain Olympics today. I have now witnessed a man remove and dice his penis and remove the balls from his scrotum. With no anesthetic and using only a knife. Look it up on youtube. They'll only show you the reactions in most videos, but that's enough in most instances. It reminded me of the video a friend showed me last year, of some man in a far of country we needn't worry about getting his throat slit. For anyone considering suicide as a beauty enhancer I assure you, there's nothing romantic about death. You'll only leave a bad taste on peoples eyelids and a nervous twitch in their chest.

I was here to talk about more savory things. The freakshow. An art piece focused on an introspective view of me behind the mask. After hearing that I had a sickening lurch in my stomach as I considered that maybe I was all mask. Then I realised it was only senior art and I could fluke it. So, the person I am when I am drinking is now me behind the mask. Me in a Midori bottle. Sickly green, sweet and sure to make you spew. Cordial for kids with condoms. Etc. I threw up for the fist time in years last weekend. It was a good weekend. Said some things I never thought I'd say in circumstances that would have seemed ridiculous for someone like me at one stage.

It says 'Complete List' at the end of my watchers list now. Life is good.

trash

~iSqueex — Wed, 18 Jun 2008 05:36:18 PDT

Yeah, I didn't go anywhere. But hey, at least it only took extreme emotional turmoil to get me on the ink again. Mess creates motion of the mind. I've discovered work sells this rad smooth paper. Buying some tomorrow night for some test runs.
Also, have decided to stay single for the rest of my stay in this pithy little place. Realised it'd be all to easy (for me, the emotional limpet) to get tied down and this I most certainly do not need. I need to move out of home. I have people to stay with I think. After school I'll spin out so bad...
I have my great demise and successive rebirth all planned out.
It'll be epic, you watch.

My fish died.

I think I'm a bit of a mess but I'm a little to europhic on all this oxygen to care. I want to stay up all night and rub it in everyones depressed little face. Because I. am happy. Cheerful, full of zest, enjoying life, not worrying about the future. I am getting fucked up this weekend again.

I think I just coughed up a lung. Stupid flu.

I think I'm going.

~iSqueex — Fri, 30 May 2008 03:54:16 PDT

Not forever.
I just want to do real art, for real people, not just words and 50x50pxl images. I want to sell some silhouettes on pastel backgrounds. Not that I won't ever put stuff up. I will later. After all, some of my stuff I'd never sell. Give me a few months.

I'm going to go tell someone I had a threesome and laugh as they believe me.

ta

You win

~iSqueex — Wed, 21 May 2008 05:26:19 PDT

I got told the other day I seemed distant.
I am.
I don't know what the fuck I'm doing.

Everythings just gone.

doolittle

~iSqueex — Sat, 10 May 2008 04:27:04 PDT

Almost hate writing here.
hate the fact that certain people that can see this. But I need someone to, and I'm not in the mood for sympathy from young ambitious writers who only write slash...Nor am I in the mood for the one or two comments from the close freind or two on Myspace.
Sometimes, DeviantArt is my medium between security (aka; anonymity) and reality. I watch what I say on myspace. Not enough sometimes I think but I do try and appear normal - and any abnormalities I try and keep acceptable by the majority. Even if no one comments on this, I always know one or two of my faithful watchers saw it; thank you for reading this far.

Sorry I haven't been submitting much. But I've grabbed one of an ever popular photographers stock photo's and practiced erasing eyes. I'm quite proud of the results. As far as photo manipulation goes, one image that stands brightly i my mind like no other image i've seen before...as far as I can remember...is one of an unknown artist I saw in a book when I was in primary school. the artist had manipulated the photo to make it appear as though a heel had grown out of someone (assumable a womans' foot. When i say heel, i mean that of a stilleto or similar shoe. But made out of flesh, protruding from the foot. It was the most remarkable, simple and well done image i have ever seen. I may do something similar for my next art project - my current one was a flop. i may post images so you can agree with me later; thank you for reading this far.

fuck

~iSqueex — Fri, 02 May 2008 02:26:58 PDT

the lines won't do what I want them to.

My resolve crumbled the second he walked in the door. I need to get fucked up, hope I get some pot tomorrow. Drink will do though.

Baby, our love is true

~iSqueex — Thu, 01 May 2008 06:02:26 PDT

My my, do I have some awkward situations coming up this weekend! It's going to be fun, I can tell...If I ever make a band (possibly a one woman band, with tuneful flatulence as the main drawing point) I must remember to have only small, unobtrusive advertisements on my myspace and to include a bio. Also, photographs of gigs rather than just myself and members standing around looking pretty. Also, I must request that all magazine photos be taken of me wasted and doing stupid things. Why is is, every 'rock/hardcore/metal' magazine almost only has photos of these so called 'rock stars' all dressed up and spiffy? SPIN would have Pete Doherty holding a kitten! First off all, I'm dissapointed in SPIN. Secong of all WHO THE FUCK GIVES DOHERTY A SMALL FRAGILE ANIMAL TO HOLD? He'll frigging try and smoke the poor thing. Though he dose look adorable in that hat.

*insert large break while I search for unknown music on myspace*

ha! got it. Must be a pedo, he's talking to me now. (to good looking not to be) Lets hope he's a good conversationalist. Yes, you sould hope to. Hope for me, hope for some sympathetic ears (or eyes in this case) who I won't say anything to. It's just nice to know they're there, you know?

They may say some awful things
But there's no point in listening
Your words are the only words
That I believe in afterwards.
You should know it's true
Just now, the part about my love for you
And how my heart's about burst
Into a thousand pieces
So it must be true
And they'll believe us to soon
Baby, it's fact
Our love is too
The way black is black
And blue is just blue
My love is true
It's a matter of fact
Oh, and you love me too
It's as simple as that
Baby, our love is true

must stop depressing myself...
um, my art project is going terrible. Like a 5year old painted it. Well maybe not a 5year old, just a talentless 16year old. Oh dear, I let slip my age. *world explodes* The draft for my history assignment is due tomorrow and I don't eve have 800 words. I have an English essay due next week which would be no problem except for the afore mentioned tasks. At least maths isn't bothering me. All this year seems to be is tests. Make or break etc. Had a speech in BCT. definitively fail. Or maybe a C, but I'm still not happy with it.

I fail at LIFE right now.
Every
single
aspect.

I'm not in that bad a mood at the moment though. Good music, how could I be?

sorry I have no time to draw anything even slightly meaningful. I want to make something that makes people laugh, or think, or get turned on, or scared, I don't care.
Sorry, babbling.
Sorry, I've said sorry to much. I'm not really.

Most likely scenario, I'll delete this when I reread it.

Still one green bar.

~iSqueex — Wed, 02 Apr 2008 22:46:48 PDT

2,062 pageveiws.

I'm happy about that. Really, I am.
Except for the fact that those numbers have been static for the last three days. Don't you miss me? Just a bit? Not at all? I had to watch fight club three times before I noticed Tyler Durden appeared occasionally, spliced into a few frames before Edward (I reuse to call him 'the narrator,' it makes him sound like an old man. And Edward suits him), met him. Thats pretty pathetic. Heres me, feeling stupider by the day. I am my own dwindling confidence. I got rid of most of my information, I figured you don't need to know much about me to look at what I've done. As it is, it's more likely that the more you know the more you'll judge. Had a fight with some people close to me, I felt the need to move on and found government and family against me. How do you stand against that? Also, today I found out how to hack various things on myspace. Amazing how easy it is, but I still can't get into messages. nyanya, I see your comments. laugh out loud. I hate the first track of pretty.odd. what a waste of 1.22mins. I just spent 30minutes ironing a large piece of calico for an art project I lost interest in a month ago. And the back of the iron fell of halfway through so I got mad and went outside and sat petting the cat for a bit. I know the main reason no one looks at my page is because I haven't been doing anything, but I'm not sure if thats any excuse for you to not be stalking me. Dose anyone know what the whole mudkip thing was about? You'd think admin would say something. Maybe they did and I'm just being ignorant. Again. I feel sick. nauseous. I'm pretty sure I spelt that wrong but spell check isn't picking it up. So far I see nothing even vaguely Palahnuik in Panics new album. Disappointing. I suppose it's nice. The music. Colorful. Fever had more of a 'circus of freaks' feel about it. This one is just circusy. I think I just got my broadband back. yay. Ha. I have a friend who always says 'the muse' instead of just muse. I don't have the heart to tell them. I'm so sick of prom. Already. I deleted my last journal entry for some reason. A friend came up with the idea of going in a taxi. I like it. But I like the idea of rocket powered heels even better. The whole date thing is going to be interesting. I feel like walking up by myself. I feel like not going. I feel like my hair is growing at a phenomenal rate. I feel like I'm turning into a hippie. I had bites, from some insect or allergy to some fiber maybe, on my neck so I put some baby cream on it and took an antihistamine tablet. It's not working. If I die, it was the hayfever, I swear. Actually i's not hayfever, I'm not crying. Hayfever makes me cry more than family crisis's ever could. I think about now I deserve a daily deviation. Don't you? I'm sure I should have one by now...Oh, my internet died. No, now it's back. I'll bet by the time I get back to that calico I'll have to iron it again. The internet died again. Limewire only has one green bar. Better get comfy, this could take awhile, and the only thing I have to do is type.Even MSN isn't working. iTunes is there though. Thank the lawd. Tell me, dose anyone else like Bryce Courtenay or is it just me? Actually, I think I'm beginning to drift towards at least mild resentment of him, like everyone else. Maybe of my own accord, maybe from living vicariously as I do. I keep thinking of how everyone else sees me and I'm gong mad. Limewire still has only one green bar. I had a dream last night, some guy in a shop asked me where I got a song and when I told him i downloaded it his looked like he was gonna call the cops, so when he asked where i got another song from, I told hims So Fresh hits of Spring or something like that. Summer jams. That sounds so funny when it comes from MCR. Still only one green bar. I feel like this page is the kind of person who doesn't talk, so it makes you talk to fill in the spaces. And these spaces are infinite. I want to have lunch, but i can't get up till I've posted this.
I give up. Still one green bar.
I'll save it and post it later.

Rant

~iSqueex — Sat, 08 Mar 2008 23:57:00 PST

tagged by:
1. Post these rules.
2. Each tagged person should post 8 facts of themselves.
3. Tagged people should write a journal\blog about these facts.
4. In the end tag and name 8 people.
5. Go to their dA pages and comment saying that they are tagged.

1. I've decided to stop being a whore. No more thumbshare.
2. Socializing makes me feel sick
3. There aren't many people I genuinely like. Even fewer who genuinely like me.
4. I read alot. I used to read more.
5. My twelve year old self hates me.
6. I'm actually a pretty happy person.
7. I can write well.
8. I'm not humble, just embarrassed.

I'm tagging:

because I can.
So fucking do the damn thing because I had to.

And I'm in a really bad mood because no ones texting me, I have two pictures to upload, one of Echo Lawrence, one of Sid Vicious and one of a pirate and they won't upload because me brother's fucked with the computer AGAIN.

I was in the sunshine coast with the aim of getting both a prom dress and b'day present for boyfriend and got neither. All day shopping and all I got was a gorgeous bracelet with spiders holding a black stone and corset top thingy.

I thought I really needed those four days away...and though the blessed two nights where I got EIGHT HOURS SLEEP was nice, I seems incredible that I was looking forward to going home...I nearly took a photo of the bird shit on out villa or whatever to post on here: 4star retreat, now featuring birdcrap!

har har

I need to reupload that story...'The Alternate'.
I made some small changes, basically because the teacher told me to. But hey, she said I was getting an A so I'll do whatever she wants. When I finish writing it I'll put the rationale in the description. It'll be such a professional affair. I love horizontally challenged [i.e. short] sentences.

[I was going to write something here]

Shit I forgot to ring work.
I'll have to go in in the morning. in in
lofl

Nobody's interesting off the pages/net anymore which really sucks, to put it in adolescent words. I always forget people can't see how old I am. How old do you think I am? Mentally and physically. Come on, I wanna know.
Psh 'wanna'.
Lately my relentlessnesses on spelling and punctuation is even getting on my nerves. Is it possible to have a phobia of myspacewhoreish typing? Myspacewhoretypophobia? That is the best word I've ever invented. Fuck you spell check, that ones going to make it into the dictionary. See, once upon a time I would have said 'gonna' instead of 'going to.'

I'm going to stop now.
Enjoy the oxygen while it lasts.
Party Crash in bridal gown while you can.
Time travel, kill your parents, become a deity.
Pg 266.

And Kudos to you who understand me, you have good/bad taste.

-mikki

Cry me a fucking amazon river

~iSqueex — Wed, 20 Feb 2008 21:03:29 PST

I keep my jealousy close
'Cause it's all mine
And if you say this makes you happy
Then I'm not the only one lying

Keep quiet, nothing comes as easy as you
Can I lay in your bed all day?
I'll be your best kept secret
And your biggest mistake
The hand behind this pen relives a failure every day
-Nobody puts baby in the corner
Fall Out Boy

Subscription is nearly finito.
Dose that mean I lose all me CSS journals? or dose the CSS just go away? Or do they stay the same?
I should prolly just get a new subscription. Better than wasting my money on retail therapy that doesn't make me feel better.

From now on
fuck them.
from now on
all I want to be is me.
from now on
no one here matters
events don't matter
time doesn't matter
only when the year is up
and I can run away
matter
only after 3, maybe 4 years
when I can leave the country, and all my technologies
will my life matter
no more texting at 1am
dirty or otherwise
no more internet chatting
or cybering
no more DA
I wont miss you
sorry

this is a prelude
to something bigger
where learner licenses don't matter
and nor do scraps of paper
or your will to succeed
or how many friends you have

I don't even know where I'm going
city or country
Dirty streets of London maybe
where I can live in a hovel
or maybe just on the side of the street
Maybe I'll hide myself under the Louvre
and come out at night searching for life's meaning among art
maybe I'll go to Africa
befriend some lions
try and help to catch some stripes

and maybe I'll just do what biology tells me
stay close
reproduce
text at 11pm
neverdirty

I hope I dont

-mikki

Something In The Way

~iSqueex — Sat, 16 Feb 2008 21:33:19 PST

And Im living off of grass
And the drippings from the ceiling
Its okay to eat fish
cause they dont have any feelings
-Nirvana

That last line always makes me giggle.

My Computer is a shitter. Stupid virus infested thing that ran out of broadband. It has absolutely nothing to do with my disgusting abuse of limewire, kay?

I'm so fucking zen.

Ummm well.. I figured I better post another splendid journal adorned with prettiness before my subscription runs out. That's the whole point of this journal, to blind you with it's splendidness

oh
Cat Empire and Bryce Courtney rule.
(I'm pretty sure I spelt Courtney wrong)

uh huh.
popjazz music and good books.
thats what keeps me going.

and sci fi short story writing

and days like these
just kickin back doing what we do
failing assignments and such....
Grade 12
am I pooping myself?
Why I surely am :] Oh and I was so pleased when being told about the test that would either ensure me a spot at uni or ruin my life, requires COLOURING IN PENCILS. well, I feel like I'm a part of a higher education alright. Though I will be. When I get my senior jersey. The children with their contraband jackets will all stare in amazement at the towering seniors with their own personalized name screenprinted on the back...
yeah. That's what's gonna be going down.

What else is going down is that Art this year rules. We get to do pretty much whatever we want. Two practical pieces, whatever medium you want, the first one has to do with multiculturalism, the second is the you behind the mask. For a lack of a better word, I'm going to say the topics are gay. But the freedom is cool. No more shitty ephemeral pieces for moi.

It's been almost a year since I went to Sydney. Words can't describe how much I miss it. Everyone says Melbourne, Melbourne, Melbourne it's all pretty and artistic etcetera...But damnit I mis that pollution dome. And the fence at my great aunts that'd been painted three layers, green blue and red and every layer was peeling to show the one underneath. I miss fucking HILLS, it's so flat here...

For a while there I was drawing a fair bit.
I don't think I'm getting better. I'm not sure it matters though, so that's ok.
_______________________________________________________

Random thumbs off thumbshare:

[link]

michelrajkovic -- [link]

b33lz3bub -- [link]

angel41 -- [link]

Funniest Scene would have to bethe smurf convo which pretty much goes:

Sean Smith: Beer and pussy. That's all I need.
Ronald Fisher: We gotta find ourselves a Smurfette.
Sean Smith: Smurfette?
Ronald Fisher: Yeah, not some tight-ass Middlesex chick, right? Like this cute little blonde that will get down and dirty with the guys. Like Smurfette does.
Donnie: Smurfette doesn't fuck.
Ronald Fisher: That's bullshit. Smurfette fucks all the other Smurfs. Why do you think Papa Smurf made her? Because all the other Smurfs were getting too horny.
Sean Smith: No, no, no, not Vanity. I heard he was a homosexual.
Ronald Fisher: Okay, then, you know what? She fucks them and Vanity watches. Okay?
Sean Smith: What about Papa Smurf? I mean, he must get in on all the action.
Ronald Fisher: Yeah, what he does, he films the gang-bang, and he beats off to the tape.
Donnie: [shouts] First of all, Papa Smurf didn't create Smurfette. Gargamel did. She was sent in as Gargamel's evil spy with the intention of destroying the Smurf village. But the overwhelming goodness of the Smurf way of life transformed her. And as for the whole gang-bang scenario, it just couldn't happen. Smurfs are asexual. They don't even have... reproductive organs under those little, white pants. It's just so illogical, you know, about being a Smurf. You know, what's the point of living... if you don't have a dick?
Sean Smith: [pause] Dammit, Donnie. Why you gotta get all smart on us?

...If you haven't seen it, watch it.

50 things no one gives a shit about<.b>

1. You have 10 dollars and need to buy snacks at a gas station:
hehe, you said gas.

2. If you were reincarnated as a sea creature, what would you want to be?
a starfish's decapitated limb

3. Who's your favorite redhead?
ew, rangas no definitely the kid on Summer Heights High that Johna Punk'd

4. What do you order when you're at IHOP?
wtf?

5. Last book you read?
The Fatigre Artist by A. badwriter

6. Describe your mood.
...I have a 13yr old cracking onto me, I'm feeling like a pedo

7. Describe the last time you were injured?
i have a few nasty hickeys, dose that count?

8. Of all your friends, who would you want to be stuck in a well with?
christ, none. They'd drive me nuts.

9. Rock concert or symphony?
rock concert

10. What is the wallpaper of your cell phone?
sid vicious, so drugged up he's trying to shoot a guitar like a gun

11. Favorite Soda?
fanta

12. What type of shirt are you wearing?
workshirt

13. If you could only use one form of transportation:
teleportation

14. Most recent movie you have watched in theatres?
uuuuuuuuuum

15. Name an actor/actress/singer you have had the hots for:
lotta singers. Jared Leto's a good example of all 3
(he'd make an exellent actress)

16. Whats your favorite kind of cake?
mud. as in dirt.

17. What did you have for dinner last night?
my favorite kind of cake

18. Look to your left, what do you see?
a black hole.

19. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off?
yer

20. Favorite toy as a child?
my glow worm

21. Do you buy your own groceries?
no

22. Do you think people talk about you behind your back?
yes, they're all plotting my demise.

23. Whens the last time you had gummy worms?
a while ago

24. Whats your favorite fruit?
fruit flavored fruit tingles

25. Do you have a picture of yourself doing a...

Laissez faire

~iSqueex — Fri, 14 Dec 2007 23:10:49 PST
hmmmmmmmn.
Not going anywhere. And my pets are dying.
My social life is exellent
and I have money
and purple hair
But I'm still not going anywhere
and my pets are still dying
and I have a festering sore in the middle of my forehead
so I'm not in the best mood.

I want it to be monday

I think the other people on this street hate my parents for leaving their daughter, with the terrible taste in music home alone with a stereo system. But how can I help it if Mika sounds better on surround sound? The amount of thing's I've been reading, and observing and watching and listening to and feeling should all be influencing and inspiring the pants off me right now.

But
bum
they aren't
poo

All the books I've been reading lately have been about insomnia and fatigue. I always do that. Every time I go to the library I get random books with a common theme. It's creepy.

My birthday
I'm working till 9.
Sweet sixteen, little whore, go let old men chat you up at the registers
then hohoho it's on to Christmas, oh my, don't we pseudo-Christians have all the fun? No church, no responsibility to be good to goddy-goodkins, material possession, material possession, hohoho. I love it. And I better get some wine again this year, to carry me through the old folks wisdom. Humans were not made to withstand so many generations at the same time.

It's 5.14
I just wasted nearly a whole day of my life
well,
have a cool yule y'all

-mikki

Honestly...

~iSqueex — Thu, 22 Nov 2007 02:58:59 PST
I have nothing to write

But I'm in a writing mood. I could just write something in my blog but I don't feel like it. And I gave up on poetry since I read my old stuff and it made me feel like throwing up it was that bad. I feel that way going through old sketchbooks sometimes. Never quite good enough.

Haiku

Drinking my tea
Without sugar-
No difference.

The sparrow shits
upside down
--ah! my brain & eggs

Mayan head in a
Pacific driftwood bole
--Someday I'll live in N.Y.

Looking over my shoulder
my behind was covered
with cherry blossoms.

Winter Haiku
I didn't know the names
of the flowers--now
my garden is gone.

I slapped the mosquito
and missed.
What made me do that?

Reading haiku
I am unhappy,
longing for the Nameless.

A frog floating
in the drugstore jar:
summer rain on grey pavements.
(after Shiki)

On the porch
in my shorts;
auto lights in the rain.

Another year
has past-the world
is no different.

The first thing I looked for
in my old garden was
The Cherry Tree.

My old desk:
the first thing I looked for
in my house.

My early journal:
the first thing I found
in my old desk.

My mother's ghost:
the first thing I found
in the living room.

I quit shaving
but the eyes that glanced at me
remained in the mirror.

The madman
emerges from the movies:
the street at lunchtime.

Cities of boys
are in their graves,
and in this town...

Lying on my side
in the void:
the breath in my nose.

On the fifteenth floor
the dog chews a bone-
Screech of taxicabs.

A hardon in New York,
a boy
in San Fransisco.

The moon over the roof,
worms in the garden.
I rent this house.

-Allen Ginsworth

Th whomever on DA suggested I look up Ginsworth...Thank you, a thousand times and more. Normally I despise haiku and it's reminders of 7th grades awkwardness. I like that this is more....mature I was about to say. Adolescent?
I think adolescent fits better.

'The sparrow shits
upside down
--ah! my brain & eggs'

is hardly mature.
But then, a forty year old man will giggle for 5 minutes about a fart. So who's to say what maturity is?
Not you boo.

oh, and I'm not failing art anymore.
I am however screwing up maths. But hey, one more week to go...

-mikki

The Truth

~iSqueex — Sun, 04 Nov 2007 03:45:04 PST
I spent $100 on cd's today

First journal entry on my third (time lucky) account. Can you believe I'm writing a draft for this journal? In green gel pen. On an unlined piece of A4 paper. Which is ridiculous seeing as a) I have no spellcheck on this piece of paper b) I can hardly read my own chickenscratch writing, and c) no one ever reads these. Or if they do, they don't comment. But that may be because I fill them all with similar topics such as the above introduction. Not the most compelling material.
So why the third account? Well one of my accounts > [link] is stock. The other > [link] I mainly stopped using because of the whole mature content thing I drives me insane when an artist I like uploads something and I can't see it because theres a boob or something in it. Speaking of favorite artists-

- b33lzbub [link]
- Neumorin [link]
- shizumi-ryu [link]
- benjelter [link]
- ariokh [link]
- godsmorphine [link]
- webby85 [link]
- angel41 [link]

look at them
love them
stalk them

So.
My style of Art is Experimental. I'll use anything, any medium, traditional or digital (though I still suck at digital). At the moment the programs I use are Photoshop, GIMP, ImageReady and PictureIt!9. In my room, in my little box of tricks I have pens, highlighters, oil pastels, pastels, oils, charcoal, pencils, graphite sticks, coloring pencils and eyeliner. One thing I don't have is a workspace. There is however, a small patch of carpet the creeping invasion of clothes, books, cd's, magazines and electronics has not yet taken over. So for now, that's my workspace. So if one more person complains about their cramped desk I'm gonna pull out their hair. stand by strand.

And here I must leave you, as it's 9.42pm and I just realized that I've left the clothes on the line.

tata

-squeekz

PostScript: I be a music dork.