Resolutions?

Here's what I want.

I want to be thin as fuck.
I want to get as far away from Pinole as possible.
I want to start all over.
I want to liberate my mind.
I want to escape.
I want to get through college applications.
I want to be accepted.
I want to live in London..or maybe Cardiff.
I want to stop overthinking.

So lately

Doctor Who, Doctor Who, Doctor Who.

Straight.

And in between, the acoustic version of "Nobody." And assorted other sad slow songs, blah. I really don't know what to listen to.

"Carmensita" by Devendra Banhart, however, is quite funky.

Looking for some good non-mainstream music.

I wish I could go back in time to prevent my falling from grace.

And wouldn't it be great if the first time you met the one meant for you was the last time they'd ever meet you? That's awesome in so many ways.

No, not a "Time Traveler's Wife" reference.

There are so many wonderful things you can do with time travel.

I think I'll find myself a blue police box.

This Christmas

I love songs with creepy negative twists to them. Screw all those lovey-dovey ones about being with the one you love. The ones about Santa are in the middle though, except "I Saw Mommy.." because that's kind of sick.

I mean, a septuagenarian x a forty-something woman.

disgusting.

12 Days after and 12 Daze are awesome. I cried listening to the latter. Out of laughter.

Ha.

Dear Santa

It's that time of year again and it's time for me to tell you what I want.

So I've compiled a small list
-a life
-a dog
-some happiness
-less overbearing parents
-I've changed my mind, I want a cat
-moar money
-Okay, maybe a little bit more
-like a million?
-That'd be great
-Natalie Tran in a Box
-I'm just kidding
-But really, can I?
-A sudden major loss of weight
-A sudden growth spurt
-Lovely beautiful smooth hands
-A trip to London
-Another to Japan
-Basically a trip to the whole world
-Except for Africa
-cuz Africa is filled with rapists

Oh Santa, why do I write this blog to you when I know it'll never reach you?

I dislike

adults.

Is their purpose in life to complete crush a child's naive dreams? Sure, they may be naive and their goals may be unreachable, but at least let them shatter their dreams themselves.

And, you know, money doesn't matter, either. It's what you want, right. That's all that matters, right? Money doesn't equal happiness.

I don't know what I want anymore -.-

But if I truly realize my dream to become a professional musician is naive and impossible, then I'll commit suicide or live a life of drugs to escape my reality. Or become an alcoholic.

Or just become a couch potato/recluse.

F^*92hf

Why is that people can't cuss when it comes to blogs? Is it forbidden? Blogs should be an expression of one's thoughts and ideas. Simply because someone cusses means their blog is dgraded

Suddenly

I've discovered that I hate Mexicans. Well, at least, the ghetto-fied ones.

Yeah.

1 in the morning

Somehow it feels empowering to write a blog at 1 in the morning and yet also just a little creepy. My room is way too cold...

Finished apps? Yay? I should feel happier, but I feel like I rushed my statements.

I hate music

Familiarity breeds contempt.

When I see musicians, specifically pianists, make facial expressions, move their bodies in an awkward manner, and move their hands in unnecessary manners, I want to puke.

When I hear my piano teacher say, "No! That's not right! You have to play it this way!"I want to say "Fuck off, Bitch, ever heard of free interpretation?"

I feel like I need to finish this off with three more sentences in regards to the five senses, but I'd probably get ruder and ruder.

Someone should finish it off.

Heh.

I've spent a full weekend, a wednesday, and soon tomorrow, [attempting to] record perfect renditions of a Beethoven sonata and a Chopin Ballade so that I can get into the conservatory at San Fran and Juilliard to no avail. I'm in despair! Why can't anything be perfect!? Why can't I be perfect!? Why do I constantly have to make a mistake during a recording!? It's not fair. I'm praying that somehow, God will have pity on me and grant me godliness for an hour too...or drugs. If I'm on drugs, I will no longer worry about making mistakes and I will be perfect.

But when you think about it, drugs solve everything. They solve war, crime, social awkwardness, depression--it's the perfect solution, except you lose brain cells and your intelligence, if it matters.

I should really work on apps. Almost one down, two more to go. Just need to work on that statement...

So I have this idea

If one day I actually choose to do something with my monotonous life, I will make a video portraying the generally monotous lives we as a human race lead. When you think about it, everything in life can be quite monotous--various problems will repeat themselves over again, we do the same routines over and over again. Even if people have the most exciting lives ever, the excitement they feel is mechanical, systematic. We're bound to feel this excitement, this euphoria. But this euphoria can only last for so long. The excitement each day repeats over and over again and as time goes by, people will become more and more bored of the excitement they feel each day. This excitement slowly deteriorates into boredom and then we find something new to regain this feeling of excitement. It's a cycle. We are bored with our lives so we do something out of the ordinary to make it more interesting. We keep doing it until things get better and we're happy for awhile until we get bored with it. The whole cycle repeats over and over again, and that is why life is monotonous.

Hello monotony. How are you today?

Downtrodden

Wrote in angst.






Have you ever tried to hold back tears, looking up so that they wouldn't start falling? Have you ever regretted not crying? Have you ever tried to think about something depressing so that the tears could start falling?

Crying is useless. It doesn't help whatever situation you're in, it only complicates whatever it is more. What's more, it reveals vulnerability and weakness. Once people see you crying, they immediately see you as a weak crybaby, a little kid, who expects people to help him fix his situation when he knows perfectly well that he and only he can fix his own problems, not anyone else. There shouldn't be any reason for anyone to cry. It's useless, a waste of time, unnecessary.

I don't need people complicating my life. I don't need people's help and I don't need people's complaints. I don't need people's views on me and I don't need people's insults. I don't need people replacing my instrument with some other crappy one and I don't need people telling that they're not trying to punish me when they know fully well that they are. I don't need people thinking that intentions justify actions and I don't need people telling me what I can't do. I don't need people treating me like a child and I don't need people thinking they're doing what's best for me. I don't need people pretending they care and I don't need people's false facades. I don't need people. Not one. Not anyone.

Hmm...

He looked at her blankly, a fearsome stare into black eyes full of fear.
"Is that it?" he asked.
"What do you mean, that's it?" she asked.
" 'Um, I think I love you,' " he quoted almost mockingly. "That's way too simple. No explanation, no praise for any of the features I possess, no background information--why do you love me? Why do you feel this way?" His blank facial expression remained, although there was a slight hint of surprise subtly in his eyebrows.
Her face became red with anger. "What the HECK was the point of me even saying it in the first place when all you do is complain and say what I should and shouldn't do? You know what, you don't even deserve it. Forget it, I never even said it." She starts to walk away.
"Now that's better." A faint smile started to form on his lips.

I'm extremely bored. In computers. So bored I must attempt to write a story, which is most likely made of fail. I'm bored of playing solitaire and minesweeper and refuse to play Halo, because I dislike playing shooters. Homework is for home, although maybe, I'll attempt to actually do it for once.

Most of the time, I don't make sense. Heck, I don't think I ever do. I need to stop assuming people know what I'm talking about it, when actually, people never really do.

EDIT: While I have nothing to do, I'll talk about myself using notes.
-I prevent myself from talking in order to save myself the trouble of being embarassed and rejected.
-I'm really cynical to the point where I can't believe that it's possible that a person can actually be completely good.
-I'm a perfectionist in a way--I like systems and order and like everything to be in a certain way.
-I'm a lazy sloth who hates all forms of cleaning.
-I contradict myself a lot.
-My faith in Obama and furthermore the world is deteriorating.

Rebirth

Technically it's not really a rebirth because I made another one and then got bored with it so I'm actually coming back to this one for the sheer heck of it. So I'm guessing it's a..comeback? Eh, what the hey.

But yeah, this is me again.

Today was lackluster like almost every other non-holiday of the year. Jazz/concert band, semi-boring Spanish 4, entertaining AP Lit sans McGrady, AP fail, chaotic club awareness period during lunch, concert band lvl 2, computer science with teh ghetto, and Mr. Andersen. indeed.

There's a bunch of things just whirring inside my head that I want to talk about, but I can't. But if I was going to talk about it, it's basically wants and can'ts. Boom.

I've started to become sleepy.