I’ve been signing into Livejournal and looking at old blogs – and really quite missing how open people would be about their lives with the internet. I don’t know if I can really imagine what life might be like without the internet or the impact it’s had on absolutely everything about the way people live but a blog post written ten or so years ago can really take you back – or even somehow relate to right now. Which is exciting I think.
People used to divulge all these intimate details about their personal and social lives – regardless of whether they were going well or not. More than it was a form of communication – truly – girls used social media to complain and vent and document their crushes and fashion and music and the very particular small details of every-day life that they wouldn’t/couldn’t of thought might be so significant at the time (the way package detailing changes ever so subtley from year to year, the fact that there are people you might’ve at one point, spent connected to online and perhaps talking to twenty four hours a day almost that you believe you have nothing in common with at all) their relationships and dramas and the failings of their families/friends/partners and boys used it to complain and vent and quietly document their crushes using code phrases like “today was a really good day” and they’d lurk girls they believed it would never not be weird to date or befriend. (code for: the internet was a place for self expression and living on some non-physical utopia with friends you wanted to be close to – without introducing to your family, for one reason or another). And yes – that all somehow invites a quiet longing for privacy but I guess that for as private as I’d of liked to of been in my life, stuff always came out anyway, and often sounded worse than it had ever been to experience.
I’ve been open a lot in this blog, and perhaps thats because I’ve been watching a lot of vloggers recently – I’m not really a vlogger. I’d have to keep up with my lip injections and cheek injections and the thoughts people completely accidentally bombard you with when they observe you looking less than perfect is too much for me right now (eghem – it’s not – I just have to spend cash on stuff other than looking cute, looking perfect is never and has never been ‘too much’, just tremendous effort and also very expensive) – but I also haven’t written for awhile because I was thinking about how I’d like to ‘market’ myself. I know I come across as a bit scary sometimes.
Like, whenever I find a guy I crush on – I imagine him reading the bullshit (he’d see it as such I assume) that I write online – and then find myself thinking “he’d have me delete everything or I’d be so embarrassed by how normal he is and therefore how insane I must look in comparison that I’d delete it of my own accord”… none of the people or jobs or anything – EVER – that ever made me feel like I was weird for expressing myself worked out. If you make me feel like I have to wrap you in cotton to cope with being associated with me it’s not gonna work. So in terms of ‘marketing myself’, I’m okay with ‘not gonna work’ when it comes to 90% of people I meet and 99% of people I might think about.
Here is how I’m going to market myself, also the truth (spoiler, I’m not marketable)
1. I write way too much. Too much to assume anyone these days has the concentration or interest to read. So – I am probably my only returning audience.
2. With the fact in mind, that I am my only audience, that is; I guess this is a reminder to myself to change nothing. I don’t really think I’ve ever met anyone whose opinion of me was worth deleting anything online for, and I don’t think I ever will. (That said – they’re doing a live action for a cartoon I like and if they hire me obviously I will immediately delete my blog if you cast me, which you should)
By the way, if you have ever been told to remove something you’d written or posted on the internet because it was indicative of mental illness – you have more to be entertain thoughts of concern about than simply ‘what if a future employer sees this’.
Here’s what I look like right now. I’d like to fake tan and paint my nails and wax and stuff but I think I’m in a feeling-rut, and I don’t know why. There’s something in me that is heavy and also – more importantly and the only reason worth stating the fact – lifting wonderfully. I’m starting with having a bedroom I’m happy with and if that means moving a lot of boxes around and working out how I’d like to make my bed and that is what will take me in the making-art-all-day direction then, great. I will have something to vent if I can work out whats going on in myself other than that I am getting-over-it.
Like I was lying in bed for many nights lately thinking “I am over the stuff in my blog.”
Like I write about some messed up stuff, and I know it’s controversial sometimes, and that sensible people would suggest I delete it ——- and YET for all the excuses I can come up with sometimes – to not delete what is effectively a miraculous if sad recollection that most people who smoked as much weed as I did at university will never manage – the best I can come up with is that my laptop is slow, and that it’d take ages to private that much stuff.
I’m working on a few things.
If you want to see why this copper-effect mermaid tail makeup cum paintbrush has been ombre’d into a lilac, well the clue is it’s related to Miss Kittie! >>> There are some pictures here and also some recent-ish past posts. <<<
Miss Kittie is my feline alterego that lives with Miss Peaches in some Silent Hill-esque Heaven. I think it is best explained as an attempt to get children to daydream and use their imaginations without feeling like I’m doing kids TV but also channelling my inner child’s idea of an adult.
My childhood was mostly spent in pyjamas, so.
Oh I am on a book hunt. I picked out this one from Bernie’s bookshelf. I don’t know if I’m going to enjoy what I know so far of the story but apparently it is quite thrilling – “The Shakespeare Curse” and also I got what I thought was a dictionary but is apparently a dictionary of literary terms. What does fastidious mean? Why is it that I can feel what the word means and I don’t know what it means?
Isn’t it weird how you can ‘feel’ what a word means? And sometimes you’re not right, but if you look in the etymological dictionary you’ll find that often what you “feel” a word means is very much connected to it’s sound roots. I’ve written about this before, you probably wouldn’t of read because I am quite verbose. heheh
The documents beside this quote are for my Law A Level. I am doing a Law A Level. I think my future-future-future self might appreciate it. I mean, it makes me at least 50% more employable to say I’ve spent a year of my life doing an A-level. (I’m actually doing so much more than that but I don’t want to tell anyone that ever)
I have an obscure Final Fantasy side game that I want to play on my PS2. I tried to set it up when I was a bit stoned and uh apparently I need an HDMI PS2 converter. I went to buy an inexpensive one online but I bought an inexpensive grinder instead. I consider it medicinal, not that I encourage anyone explaining their life choices.
How amazing is this eyepatch? I found an applique’d eye on Amazon – I am obsessed with that embroidery that catholic nuns do of sacred hearts and things like that, so this eye is fun. I safety pinned the eye to the red eyepatch – WHICH IS ALSO FROM AMAZON.
I was trying for a vintage-y camera effect, but I ended up with you-took-that-with-your-webcam-didnt-you. This is some Kenyan roses and some white roses I bought from Tescos for Bernie’s birthday-do sitting in a tin of what I think is Korean military food. It is really delicious.
I bought a load of products from Japan and South Korea from a local Japanese-run shop… and what I haven’t consumed is in the kitchen, I should get a photograph actually. I literally had a nervous breakdown in the shop, just observing the packaging.
I spent about two weeks being really, really perhaps unforgivably messy and I successfully got myself out of that by watching a few people on youtube talking about minimalism and not spending as much money. The truth is I found it all a little bit depressing but it was great to share energy – which is what you do when you watch someone on a screen, or think about someone – or otherwise make contact – I guess, because the following day I put on about a hundred washes and tided up a lot.
So, yay me – I made my bed.
I have to admit that I sort of want to learn a fancy bed making method. I like beds to look really tidy but also really comfortable and being made so intimidatingly perfect that you feel bad jumping on the bed throughout the day or the fact that the feral cats that cannot have been deflead or dewormed recently. When my family lived in Dubai, in the earliest part of my infancy that I can’t understand how I still remember – we had a maid called Mala from Sri-Lanka. She used to make my mother’s bed every morning and it always looked immaculate – my mother is big on cushions and things, being a cancerian.
Here is my bedroom at Bernie’s, starting to take form. It always takes me a long time to move into a bedroom and work out how I’d like to live in it. I’ve no idea how long I’ll be here for but I’m still trying to settle in. It looks like a lot more stuff than it is, @minimalists and I don’t have enough towels. I am funny about leaving towels in bathrooms that aren’t mine, which you have to do if you share homes with people you aren’t related to. So I’m really picky about towels and how they look and the vibe they might offer my room when I leave them hanging out to dry.
Here is what my room looks like through the fisheye lens I haven’t really taught myself how to most benefit from other than to capture a whole room – which is actually a lot of fun to me. Places that are lived in, people’s mess – it’s something you can really “read” if you want to. I believe Nabakov (oh – Lisa introduced me to a lady who taught me that it’s more correct to say “I believe” in stead of “I think”, because “I think” is actually negative, especially when you’re at least quite sure) said something about the significance in the minutiae of numbers or particular landscape details or interiors that bring you back to a certain nostalgia your brain won’t let you forget, iunno.
So. Feline anarchists.
I share a room with two of them, officially.
Sometimes more of them. There are six of them on the property, with a seventh apparently showing up for meal times. There is an eighth that likes to visit that Bernie refers to lovingly as “big daddy”. (I can’t)
I am certain they are a bit bengal, which means they are very feral. Which is funny because I always tell guys to buy girls pet kittens if they want to propose ever or something, because cats are independent and intelligent and require work if you want to get to know them.
Bengal cats are in fact, like the anti-family-values cat.
No woman will want to marry you if she spends 2 months of her life with a bengal. They are like, intensely feral and that includes feathers entwined with the fur beneath their claws – that they aren’t especially concerned with cleaning. I cuddle these ones sometimes, because they know that when they’re nice they get to steal snacks from my room I’m assuming (it’s too late to teach them not to be bribed by food – >> Tintin << cannot be bribed, haha) but also I feel genuinely afraid to bathe them.
FYI – not to derail, but I am a pillow person. There are cushions – decorative, you ought to take them off before you get into bed. I am a pillow person. I like both – but I am more enthused by pillows. Personal joke also.
She is probably one of my favourite musicians. Maybe my favourite. Amongst my top few favourites.
I’ve sort of gone mormon today actually (she is a bit mormon) and not bothered watching very much. It’s like I’m spending a Sunday on her weird family ranch? (I assume they’re farmer mormons) and she’s not allowed to use stuff that connects to electricity so she practices her violin/perfects her arabesques all day. Imagine if I married her, mormons do that stuff. If she sees this, FYI I’m a massive whore in mormon land but I love unconditionally so you’re also allowed to be a massive whore and if we hang out together as a couple we can pick the hottest guys ever to share and for some reason I don’t really believe you’d have an issue with that/finding a cute huge castle cult for people who can’t cope with “reality” to run away to together. I will only use electrical items to watch hentai on sundays – which is not work if I’m not being paid.
You think I’m joking but I’m rarely joking.
If I ever did the family thing btw, I’d only do it if we lived in/with a fabulous vampire Castle cult and we could have two each at the same time so none of them would ever get lonely and we’d never have to do the thing again and also we’d have a full league of legends team with someone on bench duty. Iunno if cults allow vampire mormons to play league of legends because a lot of hot astral travelling people play league of legends and obviously this cult will be in a beautiful top secret location.
We could like, swap eggs so we’d both own all four (joke) and pick hot sperm donors based on tiny physical qualities like slightly longer than average eyelashes in albino white with two different coloured eyes and my eye shape – because that and my hair are the only things i have going for me – and your jaw line – all that mixed together in a lab?? I know you are anime enough to help me raise anime raisins and that your family would not think it was weird for you to have a wife.
Imagine if we took a different guy home to your family every time we visited and pretended he was the same guy?
I was watching one of your videos and some part of me observed “she has men dancing around her in unison” – (for a brief moment I visualised you teaching them the choreography) you are obviously in very high demand so I suppose I’ll conclude by saying that was an open love letter of sorts. Thats how I write love letters. I am very casual and flippant almost about all love letters and declarations of love or crushes; but if you reciprocate I promise you will at least have the most intense butterflies you’ve ever had in your life. (And then you’ll get addicted to flirting with me, which is great because I LIVE for flirting with girls)
If you are in the mood to giggle… Imagine me dancing to this. omg I am tempted to make a halloween video