http://search.deviantart.com/?q=by:saourealis&section=today deviantART RSS for by:saourealis en-us Copyright 2009, deviantART.com Mon, 07 Dec 2009 05:52:24 PST deviantART.com http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rss http://s.deviantart.com/minish/widgets/apple-touch-icon-precomposed.png http://saourealis.deviantart.com/journal/14608173/ http://saourealis.deviantart.com/journal/14608173/ Wed, 12 Sep 2007 18:42:16 PDT
However, Jonah is getting us a real camera so that's very exciting.
And every week that I don't bite my nails is a week sooner that I'll have it.
And I'll get it before the New York trip in April.
Which is also very exciting.

I'm going to go play with my shiny new watercolors now.


PS.
THE SKINNY WAIFY GIRLS IN MY PICTURES ARE NOT ME.
I don't want any more comments/notes telling me that my tiny cheeks are pretty. ._o

]]> ~saourealis http://saourealis.deviantart.com/journal/14564781/ http://saourealis.deviantart.com/journal/14564781/ Sun, 09 Sep 2007 16:55:00 PDT And new photos.
Er, old photos that may as well be stuck up on DA, since... what's the point in being a photographer if you aren't showing off your work?

I was thinking that. If Jonah and Tabby want to do that "Hey let's pitch in money on one gift for Amanda" thing, they should definitely buy me a digi 35mm, because the photos I'm posting here are CRAP. Granted, they were taken with E's camera, but they could've been SO much cooler if I'd had a 35mm.

It really is about time that I resurrected this thing, though.

I'm having fun in art lately. Our teacher suggested this line activity, and it's incredibly kickass. I'm going to make a line card for Bo-Bo Doll, since she went in for kidney failure... and then she went into cardiac arrest this morning, and she's still in the hospital in an induced coma, at the moment. If mom goes down to see her, I want her to take the card to her, in hopes that it may cheer her up a bit.

I'm listening to the song that is going to be sung at my wedding.
By my daddy.
He says he'll be crying too much to sing though.

]]> ~saourealis http://saourealis.deviantart.com/journal/8150338/ http://saourealis.deviantart.com/journal/8150338/ Mon, 13 Mar 2006 14:34:50 PST This observation, my dear, is not a new one.
Merely one hidden under the obvious. We don't give much thought to it anymore.
In fact, it is astounding how little you think about it until it's right in front of your eyes.
Are you taking this down Margaret?
Please do. ]]> ~saourealis http://saourealis.deviantart.com/journal/8142479/ http://saourealis.deviantart.com/journal/8142479/ Sun, 12 Mar 2006 18:27:20 PST
However, I feel dead. o.- I had strep. And then I had my period for a week. Aaaand then I had this... throat-nose-stomach thing. I sounded like a freaking pubescent boy. I'm finally almost over it, courtesy of Augmentin and sleep perscribed by the doctorwhocalledmefat.
Honestly. It's not like I haven't noticed I'm not a stick insect.
When he can comment on it because of my health (instead of "You're a very pretty girl, if you'd just shed a few pounds...")
I'm happy with my ass. ROAR. D<
ANYWAYS.
I'm getting my voice back, which is really good, as I think we've got a rehersal for The Sound of Music that I need to attend (I missed the first two with my first bout of strep), since Linda "needs my voice."
Meaning that only four of the other nuns can sing.
*Quirked brow.*
Why would someone cast people that can't sing in a musical?
POLITICS.

I should be working on a story for English.
But I don't want to change it from the narrative.
I'm going to post the original here in a minute or two.
"Get Away."

Aaaand let's see.
I need to re-dye my hair.
And make sure that Pink Flamingos and Suicide Club are coming in with our next batch of movies, because Max and Emily and Ben and (hopefully) Julie and I are going to be partaking in those two films.


Something's missing.
And I can't find it. It really bothers me. Like when you're missing a piece of a puzzle.

New DevID. Raven-knifey-shininess.
I <3 sharp stuff. 8)


Leaf by leaf
And page by page,
Throw this book away....
All the sadness, all the rage...
Throw this book away...
Rip out the binding and tear the glue.
And all of the grief we never even knew,
We had it all along...
Now it's smoke.
- Smoke - Ben Folds Five ]]> ~saourealis http://saourealis.deviantart.com/journal/7884754/ http://saourealis.deviantart.com/journal/7884754/ Mon, 13 Feb 2006 15:32:01 PST
Cummings of course.
Tomorrow is lovesnogsingle'shellday.

A dozen roses, reported by Max, costs about $99 here.
Fucking crazy.

I mailed Jonah's letter today, since today was the only day that I could do so.

Crazy people are fully aware of their insanities. They look to the norm of society and critique themselves to it. says:
I noticed.
bête noire & the wooden anonymity - Did you know it's been 6,912,000 seconds since I last saw you? ;_; /emo says:
o_o I sent my boyfriend a crapload of my stuff, and he bought a manthong. /little giggle
Crazy people are fully aware of their insanities. They look to the norm of society and critique themselves to it. says:
x3
bête noire & the wooden anonymity - Did you know it's been 6,912,000 seconds since I last saw you? ;_; /emo says:
On Gaia, I mean
bête noire & the wooden anonymity - Did you know it's been 6,912,000 seconds since I last saw you? ;_; /emo says:
Although I can't admit that I'm not vaguely curious about seeing -him- in a manthong. XD
bête noire & the wooden anonymity - Did you know it's been 6,912,000 seconds since I last saw you? ;_; /emo says:
He has nice legs. And a nice everything else too. /nodnodnod
Yay fixed!!! says:
Hehe
Crazy people are fully aware of their insanities. They look to the norm of society and critique themselves to it. says:
xDD
Crazy people are fully aware of their insanities. They look to the norm of society and critique themselves to it. says:
xDD
bête noire & the wooden anonymity - Did you know it's been 6,912,000 seconds since I last saw you? ;_; /emo says:
BUT I DIGRESS. Before I consider asking him to buy a real one and show up on my doorstep on V-Day. XD



YOU SEE THAT, BOYFRIEND? You know what to do. Magical-teleporty-magic!!! ]]> ~saourealis http://saourealis.deviantart.com/journal/7743860/ http://saourealis.deviantart.com/journal/7743860/ Sun, 29 Jan 2006 17:04:43 PST
I know me better than you do, and I always will.
Things work better that way. It takes less effort.




She acts just like a nurse with all the other guys. <3 ]]> ~saourealis http://saourealis.deviantart.com/journal/7547806/ http://saourealis.deviantart.com/journal/7547806/ Sun, 08 Jan 2006 18:39:09 PST
I swear to god I had something important-ish to say when I clicked the thing to make a new post.

Can you look someone in the eyes if you have to lie, or are you one of those people that looks away?
Would you write your life in ink or pencil?
Life as a monk or a nun? (Pretend gender doesn't factor in.)
Who dies when you have to press the switch, the middle-aged mother or her young child?
Body modification, merely a visual enhancement upon yourself or would it mean something sacred?
What do you think the forbidden fruit that Eve picked in the 'Garden of Eden?' (You really don't need to have read the Bible to guess at this one. I promise.)


Why?
Why why why why why.
Tell me why.

...
Someone make Tabi post new pictures. ]]> ~saourealis http://saourealis.deviantart.com/journal/7492953/ http://saourealis.deviantart.com/journal/7492953/ Mon, 02 Jan 2006 20:36:05 PST Just. Hollow?

When you can't keep anything down and don't even care to try.
And the day just drags on. And your head is foggy. And your chest hurts. And you can't stop shaking. And can't keep warm. And can't keep yourself occupied. And can't bring yourself to work. Or write. Can't keep a pencil between your fingers.

And you miss arms. And being warm. And being looked at when you're spoken to. Or being spoken to at all. And sitting around in warm socks with hot chocolate. And the smell of your grandmother's hair. And laughing. And fuzzy cats rubbing against your ankles. And that "this-boy-has-not-bathed-in-a-week-he-has-instead-sat-around and-played-horror-games-with-you-and-you-haven't-bathed-either" smell you get when you bury your face in his underarm because that's where you come up to on him. And you miss affectionate names which imply otherwise but don't mean what they say. And long talks. And I-love-yous. And drumsets. And bubbletea. And beef stew at 1 AM. And a hand that completely devours yours. And confidence. And inspiration. And something that'll stay consistant. And devotion. And kept promises. And feeling fuzzy inside.

Maybe you need to get out. Somehow.
So it won't hurt. Won't be peculiar.
It's very peculiar.

Maybe we'll never be coffee-drinking Ghandi-like women.
Maybe the sun won't rise tomorrow.
Maybe the chemistry room won't reach temperatures over 100 degrees because of a faulty heating system.
Maybe you'll lose your voice.
Or lose your hair.
Or your heart.
Or your will.
Or your mind.
Maybe you'll break a finger.
Or break your nose.
Or get your eye stabbed out.
Or fail a test.
Or a class.
Or life.
Maybe she'll break up with you.
Or lead you on.
Or hurt you.
Or shoot you.
Or you'll find her in bed with another man.
And shoot her instead.
Maybe he's not yours.
Maybe you'll ache.
Or fester.
Or lose your reason.
Maybe you already have.

This is a rough draft.
This is a first draft.
It will never be completed.
The editors will never be satisfied.
There's too much detail.
Not enough significance.
A distinct inability to daydream.

If I brought you out on a balcony and put you on the railing naked and blindfolded, and ran my hands up your thighs and rested my chin in your hair and asked you why you wanted to live, what would you say?

I wish I knew.
Tell me. Make it appeal. ]]> ~saourealis http://saourealis.deviantart.com/journal/7322487/ http://saourealis.deviantart.com/journal/7322487/ Thu, 15 Dec 2005 19:59:25 PST

I'm wearing two boys. The shirt belongs to my rancid butter, tangy-tart sweetheart whom I love and hate through all of his cuntery. The sweater belongs to the boy I want to crawl into and eat the insides of. The panties belong to me, for once.

Is it wrong for me to feel protective and carnal and carnivorous about something I cherish so dearly? I want to hoard him like a dragon hoardes treasure. It's wrong to try to own a person and make them yours, but I want to be able to say that he is mine as confidently as I tell him I am his. No, this is not disregarding his mistress. I know what I mean, even if I can't express it. I want to lick his wounds and slip inside of his body like an infection, just to know how his organs work, how his mind works, just so I'd never feel those cold chills I get when I just need a long cuddle, a warm bath and some hot chocolate. I want to suck on his papercuts to say, "I know what he tastes like." I want to understand him just like she did. I don't like her very much, which is wrong as I've never met her, but I aspire to be like her. I want to know everything she knows, want to mimic every gesture that he loved in her so maybe I'll be loved a bit more. In the meantime I'm just floundering around in shallow water trying to be the best me I can, the most appealing thing I can, and I feel like I can only try harder and hope for the best.

The band concert was good. People came up to me afterwards and said, "Your performance was wonderful! Great job! I saw you bouncing around up there, you really feel the music, don't you? Were all those high notes coming out of you?" People say the latter as though a girl so short shouldn't be able to make a clarinet scream so tall.

I have chemistry homework and for the first time all week no biology. Eck. I can't wait for an english class. Hell. Even civics is looking better than this frenzied-fuck honors class. I wouldn't mind staying in chemistry. I enjoy helping people. It helps me get my shit straight.

I read Venus in Furs last night.
For some reason the ending disappointed me.
And yet the whole story seemed vaguely familiar.
I really am quite the masochist.

"My friend doesn't understand how I can love you. She doesn't think you either handsome or particularly attractive otherwise. She is telling me from morning till night about the glamour of the frivolous life in the capital, hinting at the advantages to which I could lay claim, the large parties which I would find there, and the distinguished and handsome admirers which I would attract. But of what use is all this, since it happens that I love you."

For a moment I lost my breath, then I said: "I have no wish to stand in the way of your happiness, Wanda. Do not consider me." Then I raised my hat, and let her go ahead.

]]> ~saourealis http://saourealis.deviantart.com/journal/7305275/ http://saourealis.deviantart.com/journal/7305275/ Tue, 13 Dec 2005 21:25:35 PST I'm sorry. Okay. Let me clarify.
I don't hate Wicca. I don't.
I hate the drippy pre-teens 'practicing' it.
Hate is a very strong word.
I'm aware. I apologize. But it's a little bit more than a strong dislike. It annoys the SHIT out of me.
I hate/strongly dislike wiccans who think that their religion dates back to oh, say, the Salem witch trials. (Wicca is a relatively new religion, compared to others. I promise you.) I hate/strongly dislike wiccans who look up love spells. I hate/strongly dislike wiccans who say they're wiccan just to rebel and look cool because that's the 'cool' thing to do. I hate/strongly dislike wiccans who took up the religion because they saw The Craft once and thought they'd like to be able to do all that stuff. I hate/strongly dislike every single website on the internet made by some teenager going by "Dusky Ravenmoon Silverwolf" with all of her special 100% guaranteed wiccan spells.

Just. Urgh.
What is -wrong- with kids these days?
I don't mind diversity of religion, but if you're going to make a commitment to something that serious, at least LOOK IT UP so you know what you're talking about when you run off to tell your little friends. You know, put some thought into it.

I hope they (the politically incorrect wiccans that don't know shit about their own 'religion' or 'way of life' or whatever you want to call it) all get struck down by lightning.
While they're fucking a tree.
Yes, I said it. ]]> ~saourealis http://saourealis.deviantart.com/journal/6891276/ http://saourealis.deviantart.com/journal/6891276/ Fri, 28 Oct 2005 13:21:41 PDT *Floats around in bliss.* ]]> ~saourealis http://saourealis.deviantart.com/journal/6833562/ http://saourealis.deviantart.com/journal/6833562/ Sat, 22 Oct 2005 03:41:31 PDT So so incredibly happy.
I would be jealous of me.
Are these people that don't know me jealous? Maybe even a little? Not knowing who the hell I am?
And could they possibly have an idea of why I'm walking on air and weak-kneed?


I feel like writing love poetry right now.
And I suck at life and fail at poetry.
So it would be bad poetry.
But I would just vomit banal poetry if I knew it'd make you smile.
You know why I'm happy.

You're my new excuse. ]]> ~saourealis http://saourealis.deviantart.com/journal/2678725/ http://saourealis.deviantart.com/journal/2678725/ Wed, 16 Jun 2004 22:56:05 PDT


When we got home my grandmother phoned and said that my grandfather had been diagnosed with cancer again, this time in his throat. No one thinks he's gonna survive the chemo and surgery, this time. It's scary... to think that this man... who raised me until I was five, since my parents were hardly ever around (funny, now I can't get them out of the house, ever...), might not... be in Hickory, when I go down for Thanksgiving or Christmas. Like this force in my life... someone that's influenced me so much, and shown me love, and devotion... might just poof out. Like a candle.

He was asleep when we left for the beach, so I didn't get to tell him I loved him, goodbye, anything. I haven't told him I loved him since the last time I left his house, which was sometime in April. What if he dies before I get to tell him that again?
That would make me feel awful.
Who'm I kidding?
I already feel awful... ]]> ~saourealis http://saourealis.deviantart.com/journal/2614089/ http://saourealis.deviantart.com/journal/2614089/ Tue, 08 Jun 2004 15:44:57 PDT
If you saw a camera out in your school hallway, what would you do with it?
...Steal it away and use it, take the film out when I was done, then return it to where I found it.

If one of your friends, from the same gender, asked you out on a date and claimed they were gay, what would you do?
Well, considering how much I know about my friends up here, I'd probably say no. I wouldn't want to date any of the girls I hang out with. Most of them are just... nargh.

If there was a snake in your desk at school, what would you do with it?
Depends on what kind of snake. If it wasn't uuber-poisonous and hateful towards me, I'd snoogle it and keep it wrapped around my arm as a pet and a trendy fashion accessory. ! ]]> ~saourealis http://saourealis.deviantart.com/journal/2606675/ http://saourealis.deviantart.com/journal/2606675/ Mon, 07 Jun 2004 17:25:41 PDT Just never at the right times. X3



Me: And sit around nodding all wise-like and going, "Yes, so true."
Laurel: We'll be like deep, coffee drinking, ghandi-like women. ]]> ~saourealis http://saourealis.deviantart.com/journal/2463794/ http://saourealis.deviantart.com/journal/2463794/ Wed, 19 May 2004 15:52:23 PDT ~saourealis