welcome to my site. this is the first post of what i hope to turn into a living. breathing collage - an art project of epic proportions. i have always admired various pictures and snippets of sentences but never actually took time to collect them and now some of my once favorite sayings and images are lost forever, on the precipice of memory yet eternally out of my grasp. i hope that by placing all of my finds in one location i will find a place of rebirth and inspiration & create a corner for which to rediscover all my favorite quotes and photos. my photos, quotes, surveys and whatever else manages to find it's way on my site are not my work unless specifically stated, and i do try to give credit where credit is due. :)
about today's quotes -
last time i went to the thrift store, i brought home a huge bag of books (as usual), but the first book i pulled out to read had been highlighted to shreds. i soon realized the highlighted parts were, in fact, amusing thoughts and superficially meaningful musings of the adolescent persuasion. i thought it would be fun to post them for you all to read. the book is called "Please, Don't Kill The Freshman" by Zoe Trope. I highly recommend it - it is not a novel in the traditional sense of the word but more a mixtape of the mind. enjoy them - these lines that meant so much to a complete stranger.) That being said, please give her credit for her words. <3
"Completely random moments of blue-eyed beauty..."
"Seeking a girl who won't eat his heart with a steak knife...it hurts when he smiles."
"He wants revolution like small children beg for candy in the checkout line at a grocery store."
"I choose apathy and then regret it later. Roll around frustratedly on my bed and fret about the things I should've done."
"The random objects cluttering my room were illuminated by a disgustingly bright gray light. I sit up and look out the window. The streets are dry and quiet and the bland oatmeal sky stretched out over the houses without deviation or ending. I want nothing more than to crawl back into my marijuana nightmare, but I decide against it. Shame."
" 'Are you looking for poetry? That isn't poetry.' Bitch. Do not tell me what is art and what isn't."
^ well then.
"Irony tastes like lead water."
"The idea that I am sour is not an insult. Perhaps a compliment. Would I really be unhappy to be put inside someone's mouth, swished around, feel the puckering of someone's cheeks? Would it be so terrible to give someone pain to give them pleasure? I am a masochistic candy cane, lick 'em lolly, and gummi girl all in one. The pain you seek is me. Just me."
"She was trying to shove her tounge into his heart."
"One day I'll learn to be sweet."
"I don't know why caring makes me a serious person. I eat meat. I get B's on my progress report. I forget my homework. It has taken far too long, but I have learned to accept these simple truths. I'll be absolutely fine as long as I just don't get a B on my actual report card. The number 4.0 is calm, comforting. If you'll excuse me, I need to go breathe into a paper bag and take some quiet pink pills. I can make things right again."
"I'd burn this Earth Club t-shirt but I'm too lazy. And the toxins from the smoke would pollute the air."
" 'You need to watch this. It's culture!' Fuck culture."
"I pity the pretty little Mormon girls. Their mouths always curl up in disgust when they walk past me. The thought bubble above their heads read, 'Oh dear lord! What a heathen!' Bitch. A conservative Baptist with big feet asks Wonka Boy, (hushed, embarrassed plea) 'What'sanorgasm?' I cackle delightedly. Who will be the real heathen when her forty-eight-year-old pastor knocks her up? I must stop being so cynical. I know far too many angry twenty-somethings who got burned out in high school."
"I am trying not to drown. I am trying to bloom. Please don't kill the flowers."
"STOP ABUSING ME! Oh, but I want more. Please don't stop."
"I will not...meet.my.fate."
"Plum Sweater on my voice mail. Heart palpitations induced. What a nerdy goddess. I'm going to faint."
"We laugh. Our voices are fake. She sounds so young."
"I'm going to wring her neck after I hold her forever."
"He tells me about making love on fresh-cut grass. I want to cry. I'm supposed to be hugging a Plum Sweater. These grey trousers will have to do."
"I don't understand girls who - wait, never mind, I just don't understand girls. Especially the ones who smear their faces with brightly colored crap every chance they get. I want to shove that lipstick pencil in her eye."
"Oh, the people you can judge while riding public transportation."
"We waste time drinking too much, holding each other."
"...walk around the neighborhood, softly revealing secrets to each other in the clean quiet of the evening. Fresh-cut grass is everywhere. We laugh. We sip cold water and continue to giggle. I try, so hard, not to cry when he leaves."
"We bite our lips so hard they bleed when teenage psuedo-elitists dressed in sophisticated black turtlenecks read political magazines. We desire their shoulder blades, arms, waists."
"I keep my mouth closed, because if I opened it, tears would come out."
"Monday. Now. Today. Welcome to Career Week. Please shoot me. Please. Please."
"It is good to remember sometimes that not everything is hate."
"I'm tempted to just pass out. It would be grand. It would be art. Would anyone notice?"
"Tomorrow we have to write notes to the presenters we saw today (like the woman from State Farm who tried to convince us that selling insurance was a fun, interesting career field...LYING WHORE)."
"Near the end, but not close enough to taste."
"Some of my friends are driving, smoking pot, piercing their lips. I vaguely remember finger painting with tempura paints when I was seven years old. Sometimes the cycle of life make my fingers twitch and wrists ache. A wad of dictionary pages grows larger in my stomach. I fear driving. I fear senior prom. I fear graduation. I fear college. I fear relationships. I fear life."
"Sometimes I'm sick of loving everyone. I'm sick of being the one that people depend on. I'm sick of depending on people. I care so much the skin under my fingernails bleeds and turns black, but I am rarely held, recognized, encouraged. Sometimes loneliness makes me more vague and cryptic."
"Maybe I can't stand them because they are old-milk flavored versions of myself."
"I just want to hold him until the world goes away, until there is no more pain and no people to harm him. Sometimes my fantasies are grotesque because they are never fulfilled. "
"I would like to comment on my friends and how they fuck. No, not with cocks and cunts, but with their mouths. Their tongues flail aimlessly and they laugh and talk, but nothing is really said. And they never really listen either. This is called being a teenager, I'm told, though I don't quite understand it. They never listen. Their tongues keep pressing against their teeth and lips and they keep fucking with their mouths like there is no tomorrow, but they don't know how to communicate. Watching them at lunch is like watching really messy, amateur porn. Lifeless bodies smacking into each other, using one another, and nothing being accomplished. Not one thing being done. Not one idea being communicated. But there is a lot of useless rubbing, grinding, laughing, and spilling of unnecessary liquids."
"My tears never hit the formica table."
"High school poetry slam in thirteen days and I'm sure it will mostly be trembling teenagers reciting poorly written love poems in crackly voices. I think it will be marvelous."
"He explains that he is not pretty enough, even though he is so gorgeous it hurts my eyes. He does not understand this. He does not believe me. I cannot explain the pain this causes."
"I think too much and say too little."
"He is not perfect. But he's the closest thing I've found."
"I'd die in that room if I had a choice."
"I want to marry a man like him. Soft but not fat. Intelligent but not arrogant. Owns a sticker that says 'Tough Guys Write Poetry.' Black hair and funny glasses. Wears pin-striped pants, shiny black shoes, and casual dress shirts."
"I think his house would make a wonderful bonfire."
"I wonder if I am...defined. I ask random questions as we wander...'Have you ever loved anyone?'...'What do you fear the most?'...I discover they have never loved anyone and they fear nothing (everything.)"
"He wears his Old Navy and sips his twenty-four-ounce lattes from Starbucks while hatefully condemning all of society. Why? Beacuse THEY are so trite and ignorant? Like listening to Bad Religion makes him some sort of pseudo anarchist god."
"A stoner girl in a few of my classes hates the popular people who wear converse shoes. Like when you go to buy converse shoes, she thinks you should have to show your anarchy-punk ID card. Another girl in our class wears converse shoes and Gap jeans, an ultimate sin to the stoner girl. All I wanna know, all I really wanna know is: When the fuck is this shit going to matter? Jesus Christ people, let it go. Let it be."
"Instead of eating too much I am thinking too much and I need to throw up some of these thoughts before something vile happens. I am thinking I don't need to prove myself to the people who don't matter."
"I am convincing myself of many, many things but the longing is constant. My longing is riding my bike with pink streamers to the 7-11 and buying a slurpee. My longing is a soft boy to hold me. My longing is to be rid of my empathy."
"I know what matters. Linux Shoe matters. My words matter. The people I love matter. Not that building, not those letters on that piece of paper, not the teachers who yell, not the teachers who tape the pictures of pretty blonde girls to their podiums, not the crackly voice on the PA, not the the scores from the 'state', not the stupid girls or the angry boys. As simple as this may be, I sit and cry because no one else will know this for a very,very long time...I know a billion other truths and philosophical ramblings. But what do I really know? Noting. I'm fourteen. I'm a girl in a pretty little public high school in a pretty little neighborhood. What do I know?"
"My mother tells me I am too young to know what is dangerous. I disagree. I can see danger when I turn my head. I can see danger i the fifteen-year-old girls with perfectly rounded breasts who wear strapless tops and shorts on ninety-degree days. I see them getting raped in the back of a van with no air conditioning. I see danger in the boys who drive the black pickup truck with twenty-five friends in the back and an easily abused PA system. I see danger in the teacher who ignores the vibrating tension in his own classroom."
"I walk in the rain. I walk in the rain, tilt my head up, and taste someone's tears."
^this movie is amazing and yet makes me wonder if Tom actually exists.
"I eat oatmeal in the morning and wonder how many mornings I will eat oatmeal. I wonder how many mornings it will be until I am serving oatmeal to my children. Three minutes ago I was in kindergarten, following plastic footprints of the imaginary classroom leprechaun. I have sixty seconds until i graduate. When I microwave water and press the faded white buttons for a minute-forty-five, I realize that two minutes are slipping away. Then nine minutes. And then I get my degree and marry some boy and I am scooping sand up off the beach with my fingers wide open and everything is slipping through. You can't hols on to anything for longer than it is happening. Nineteen minutes from now I am going to die. And in the next millisecond, nothing will matter. Not a thing."
"Some days it's really nice to forget who I am.Some days it's really nice to pretend that I've got another life without obligations - a life with books and men in their twenties and thirties and music and talking and words. But then I have to leave and go to band rehersal. it.all.comes.crashing."
"I touch my Linux Shoe until my hands bleed rose petals...He matters to me like my shoelaces. Always there, always wrapped between the holes. Everything falls apart when he's gone. I can't walk. I trip and fall and lick the ground."
"I'm not going to waste it anymore."
"I smile because for some people [high school] is everything. Everything. And their lives are ending because it's everything. When they fall to their knees and sob, I touch the tops of their heads and keep walking."
"Like when you were in kindergarten and you didn't want to share so you just said, 'Pass.' When they call my name to get my diploma, I'll say, 'Pass.' When they call my name to make me grow up, I'll just say 'Pass.' No one made you do it if you said pass."
"I don't know anything. The truly beautiful thing is I can admit it."
"But right now, this very second, I know what matters. Linux Shoe once told me my hands and lips are roses. My hands and lips are blooming."
Are you currently wearing socks, shoes, or barefoot?
I am barefoot.
Are the freshmen bullied by the upperclassmen in high school?
Not that I know of. That being said, if they are bullied it is probably for reasons other than simple being a freshman. Or maybe there is a whole underground freshman bullying ring, and I'm just unaware. I never was very involved with school.
What about the 6th graders in middle school?
What are the first three letters of your name?
What's your middle name? Do you like it?
Audrey. It's a family name. I suppose I like it.
Have you ever tried to give someone a gift and had it refused?
Uhm, no. All the people I know are greedy little bastards.
What song describes your current mood perfectly?
"When You're Around" by MCR...yeah, I know. No need to say anything.
What is your favorite animal noise?
I would have say birdsong.
If God was an animal, what animal would He be?
He would be a dinosaur.
What about if you were an animal? What animal would YOU be?
How do you make your smiley faces? (ex: :], :), , etc.)
What other windows are open on your browser?
Facebook is open and my iTunes is open.
Have you ever played Cooking Mama?
what is this you speak of...?
What was the last book you read?
"Washington Square" by Henry James.
How about the last movie you saw?
I think it was "Poison Friends."
Do you find South Park offensive or funny?
I LOVE SOUTH PARK. I was literally reared on that show. It is in my blood.
Are you a sensitive person?
Depends what kind of mood I am in. Usually I am.
What is the worst thing somebody has ever called you?
Too my face? Shit, I don't know.
How about the nicest thing? :)
That I gave them faith in humanity.
DO YOU KNOW ANYONE WHO APPEARS TO HAVE A ROCK ON THEIR CAPS LOCK KEY?
Look outside! It's a stray dog! What do you do?
Run outside and give it a hug and some food. Then invite inside my house and bond.
Are you allergic to anything?
Cats. Kind of. My body is strange.
Do you play any after school sports?
Does your school have PE?
Yes. You can choose from a variety. Golf, yoga, boxing. Whatever tickles your fancy.
What about study hall?
Are you a social butterfly or antisocial?
I vary. Usually I am a friendly loner.
Do you keep a diary or journal?
What was the last thing you drew?
Fingers. I am working on drawing hands...they are very tricky.
Do you find it easier to draw animals or people?
Name a song that gets stuck in your head easily.
"Dysentery Gary" by blink182.
Now sing some lyrics from that song so it gets stuck in my head too. xD
"Hes a player, diarrhea giver, trying to grow his hair out 'Cause his friends were listening to Slayer I would like to find him Friday night Hanging out with mom trying on his fathers tights Life just sucks, I lost the one
I'm giving up She found someone Theres plenty more, girls are such a drag So all you little ladies Be sure to choose the right guys You'll come back to me maybe Ill shower you with lies Got a lotta heartache Hes a fucken weasel Decisions make my mind ache Want to make a deal....
Ease away the problems and the pain
The girl chose the guy that makes you want to kick and scream
All along, you wish that she would stay
Fuck the guy who took her and ran away"
What color is your favorite pair of shoes?
The flip flops I wear most often are black leatherish.
Do you even have a favorite pair of shoes?
My rainbows. :)
What about a favorite pair of socks?
I hardly wear socks because I don't have many shoes that require them.
Do you ever sleep in your clothes? Or do you sleep in pajamas?
I hate sleeping in street clothes. I will always get into PJs.....