FOUR

my dog will be 11 months on friday. he’s too young to be familiar with snow. it’s snowing outside now and he was out on my deck, sliding around and chasing after snowflakes trying to catch them in his mouth. he isn’t the smartest dog, that’s for sure. he even eats his own poop. a very classy boy.

photo credit: me

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THREE

a rant: please read

“it doesn’t matter.”

Kolobrzeg, Poland, July 27, 1992

photo credit: rineke dijkstra

i say this often, whether referring to school, friends, a misunderstanding with my parents and, most often, life in general. life to me just doesn’t matter. but for some reason, right now, this blog does. it matters so much to me. not like it’s a beacon of hope that’s going to get me through these dark days ahead of me. no, not like that at all. more like it matters what anyone that even comes across my sad sorry blog by accident thinks of it.

 

WHAT DO YOU THINK???

 

don’t answer that. because don’t you realize? i hold you–YES, YOU!–on a high high high pedastol way above me. you might be younger than me, or have a lower IQ than me, or maybe you can’t spell as well as i can, or perhaps i don’t even like your style, or i think you’re a hypocrite, or self-righteous but the point is, no matter what or who you are, i still want to impress you.

Coney Island, N.Y., USA, July 9, 1993

photo credit: rineke dijkstra

i read these blogs of people i admire for their style because they’re young and they’re going somewhere. they’re living the dream, in my eyes. but then i used to comment on people’s blogs and they wouldn’t respond to me or i’d get “thanks for the comment.” now i don’t comment because what’s another comment when they already get about 60 comments per post? really, it’s nothing, especially when all i have to add is “cool sweater! i have one just like it!” and do you notice how we (the lowly unknown bloggers) comment and comment and comment (well, not me, but i guess i’m starting to now because i’m lonely and my therapist is on vacation) on the big blogs but the big blogs don’t comment on anyone except for each other once in awhile? i put so much effort into saying the right thing to big blogger A but then they see my comment and click on my blog, scroll down a little and say “mmm it’s aiiight but i’ll pass on this one, too much text. she’s not very pretty, anyways, and she doesn’t live in cali”. total stereotype, i know. VERY VERY OFFENDING AND NOT PC AT ALL <<RAWR ANGRY FACES>>

and on top of everything, i know my blog(s) suck(s). i don’t have a tripod. my muse at the moment is my dog. i am in desperate need of a new wardrobe. i have no outfit photographer. i am really not photogenic. i have bad skin and i don’t care to take care of it. does it matter? it didn’t before, really (well, the clothes thing did, because i wear the same sweater + legging + docs combo everyday) but the rest of it didn’t–it didn’t matter. it DOES now matter, though, because i’ve started this blog and because i want people to read it so that i don’t feel so lonely. it’s the standard i’m trying to uphold.

Coney Island, N.Y., USA, June 20, 1993 

photo credit: rineke dijkstra

the point is: i have social anxiety. i put myself out there day after day, online, in school, in mood disorder group and with my friends. just because you’re some big whig blogger, don’t forget about the little guys.

 

ANALYSIS OF WHY I WROTE THIS:

  • i want more people to read my blog (self-importance/i think i’m goooooooood)
  • i think i’m suffering from insomnia lately (last night i didn’t go to bed till 2:30 and it’s already 1:00. i’m usually asleep by 12:30)
  • i talked to two of my friends (they’re in florida on a crew training trip) and it didn’t go well. i ended up hanging up on them, crying and then playing tetris to ease the pain, which worked out.
  • i’m mad jeal(ous) of the high profile bloggers
  • i’ve been getting pissed (not like “getting pissed” as in getting wasted which i have never done) lately about all the injustices in the world, and they are all coming together in the most horrible ways at the most inconvenient times

Odessa, Ukraine, August 4, 1993

photo credit: rineke dijkstra

the blog doesn’t matter to you. its image  matters to me. my image on the blog matters to me therefore influencing the matter of my image off of the blog. does that matter?

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TWO

A daughter is just a little girl who grows up to be a friend.    -Anonymous

we have a pillow in my house with this quote stitched into it and for some reason my dog is really infatuated with it lately. i should just let him tear the thing to shreads. it’s a crap quote anyways and clearly the author knew it, too. that’s why they didn’t fess up to saying the damn thing. you know, anonymous has a lot of nerve.

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ONE

photo credit: silver wings

another one? what is this, 5? 6? 7? really, i’ve had a lot of blogs. and to be  truthful, no one reads them but me. a blog is something of self-importance, something of self-indulgence. i read blogs because i have nothing better to do, because i’m bored with my own life and because let’s face it, i’ve been abandoned, real or imagined. and again, i speak in commas and i don’t like capitals when i type on the internet. it takes too much time. when it comes to the internet, i think very highly of myself. when it comes to real life, i think very poorly of myself. does that make sense? probably not. i guess i’m doing this because i keep it all inside and sometimes i just want to scream. i thought maybe someone would understand.

photo credit: lomography

but if you don’t like reality, don’t read this. if you’re okay with the unhappy things in life, by all means, read at your own will. there’s only time to spare, isn’t there?

 

but then there’s the dilemma of wanting someone to read what you write because either you think it’s important or good or whatever or you need help. i’m in the latter category. i just need someone to listen. but i don’t want to be a hypocrite. i hate hypocrites (even though i often am one, but we all are sometimes). i will do something that is easy for people to understand and to read: a list and the ever-so-famous “25 Random Things” (or “25 Random Dumb Things No One Ever Wanted To Know About You But You Told Us Anyway Because You’re So Self-Involved, You Dumb-Ass):

1. i think 25 Random Things is a stupid chain letter

2. i secretly want people to read this blog and that is probably why i am writing it

3. i hate people who self-promote their blogs and yet i have done this in the past and am thinking of doing that for my blog (well not exactly but simply commenting on people’s blogs which i happen to already read but never comment on)

4. i think the bailout (excuse me! stimulous package!) is SO DUMB! i probably consider myself a liberal but my views on the bailout probably classify me as a conservative however does it really matter anymore? we’re all fucked, aren’t we? democrat, republican, purple or green we’re all going to be fucking BROKE in the next couple of years and i happen to think obama is kind of a cool guy but he’s just not so smart in the economic field.

5. don’t even get me started about the big fucking dig in massachusetts. i won’t even go there. again, we’re all fucked. “change we can believe in” (yes, obama had the same campaign slogan as our lovely governor deval patrick). i’ll belive it when i see it.

photo credit: lomography

6. i’m on school vacation this week.

7. you’d think that would be a good thing. well, it is since i really don’t like school at all. but here’s the big one for you: i have depression.

8. my therapist went on vacation last wednesday out of the country and she won’t be back for another week. that’s never happened before. i think i started this blog because it’s late at night and i have nothing to do and i’m lonely.

9. i think i’m probably going to get shit for this. it’s a pity party for myself. but isn’t depression just one big pity party?

10. as much as i love fashion (it can be an unhealthy obsession), i basically wear the same thing everyday, the same formula: leggings + dress/skirt + oversize sweater/sweatshirt + pink patent dr martens + scarf

11. i am obsessed with lost. that’s another thing i live for, like when i’m on the edge and i think about dying i think about lost and fashion but fashion doesn’t always work because it makes me think about:

12. i’m not tiny. my meds made me gain about 50 lbs but also i’m not so good with exercise. that’s why the fashion industry and blogging world and shopping and all are intimidating for me. bad experiences and not so friendly

13. OKAY THIS IS BORING YOU AND I BOTH DO NOT CARE ABOUT THESE FUCKING RANDOM THINGS

photo credit: me

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