Spring Break.

Hello everyone,

just thought I’d tell you about all the things I’ve done these past couple of days. This is my spring break (thus far), in a short manner, in no specific order. I have…

  • Made a summer playlist with over a hundred songs on iTunes.
  • Intended to visit a couple of museums with Succumb, instead ending up doing what we always do.
  • Bought nail polish that I later noted are the colors of each Powerpuff girl. Oh, and midnight blue as well.
  • Painted my nails in one of the colors mentioned above. Bubbles’, I guess.
  • Argued with Mother over whether I actually have the color of the sky on my fingers. Needless to say, I was victorious.
  • Baked the vegan equivalent of apple pie. A rather delicious equivalent, I might add. This was done while listening to earlier mentioned summer playlist.
  • Taken a bubble bath with the songs from So Wrong It’s Right (by All Time Low) playing in the background. Not very relaxing, but that wasn’t really what I was going for.
  • Made myself a tumblr. You can find it here. Effectivizing (dunno if that’s a real word, but don’t care) my blog browsing.
  • Ordered a white lace dress, along with two of my absolute favorite high-waisted jeans from Topshop. I eagerly await my package.
  • Spent my nights huddled up with my laptop, watching movies I’ve always wanted to see, but never had the time to. Including, but not limiting to, Adventureland, 500 Days of Summer and the Rocky Horror Picture Show. The last shocking the bejeezus out of me.
  • Sat in a park with a friend, soaking up the sun and listening to the Xx. And Florence + the Machine of course.
  • Taken photos with my beloved Bellamy (the iPhone).
  • Played ballerina, flailing around in the living room.
  • Dreamt of a certain someone.
Granted, I have more than half of my break left, but I’m pretty satisfied with what I’ve accomplished these past few days. Tomorrow, I’m heading into the city, and the day after that, I’m taking my precious god-daughter to see some sort of animated film. I’m definitely going to paint some eggs as well. Easter time and all. And I have to throw in some meat-eating around sunday as well. No big deal. It’s not like I’ve been living as a pseudo-vegan the last month and a half. Yeah, so that’ll be fun.

Oh, won’t you do me the favor, man. Of a giving mind.

(Little note: I’m making a music category where I’ll put all the song’s I’ve posted. Easier to navigate.)

Tune of the day CXXVIII.

Because it’s painfully accurate.

I’ve done myself an impossible crime
Had to paint myself a hole
And fall inside
If it’s far enough in sight and rhyme
I get to wear another dress
And count in time

Insecurities.

What I wouldn’t give to have it all taken away.

Just for one moment. To not feel that dark void, nothingness weighing so heavy. To look myself in the mirror and not see the sad, pathetic pools of darkness staring back at me. To be able to live, carelessly, without that black raven sitting in the back of my head. The constant picking, making my head ache. To not feel like the monsters gleefully stomp down the sparks of hope, coloring my entire world a gloomy shade of grey. Constant picking. Words that cut through self without mercy.

Slash. Slash. Slash.

Leaving my soul tattered and bleeding. Making everything hurt. Making it feel like this is the only alternative for me. My fate. To always lead a washed out life, marred by myself. To exist, without living.

Pick. Pick. Pick.

The raven, unnecessarily reminding me, telling me that I mustn’t forget that this is how it’s meant to be. That I’m supposed to feel this weak. My head is throbbing, an unbearable pressure is hindering me from thinking about anything else.

Don’t worry Raven, I won’t ever forget.

Pools of darkness staring back at me.  Tired. The blank expression of someone who’s lived with this her whole life. Apathy merely a weak facade, a thin wall that holds little strength.

Crash. Crash. Crash.

Tears blur my vision as I break down. Frustration and bitterness runs down my face, leaving streams of cold on my cheeks. Pools of darkness in the mirror. Now with a single, tiny spark of emotion. The face of someone who feels. The sparks, trampled down by the giants, rise and dust themselves off. Making the monsters shrink. I see the hint of a light, giving me hope. Hope for a better self.

Pick. Pick. Pick.

The black bird reminds me of its presence. Letting me know that it will never go away. Oh, how I wish it would go away.

Cupid and Psyche.

This Friday, my dear friend Succy returned from her trip to France, and she told me about all the things she did there. She went to The Louvre, for the second time, and showed me here favorite work of art. I gasped aloud when I saw the link. I remember reading about this myth a year ago, and I really liked the story. This statue was a perfect reminder. So stunning. I just had to put it here.

Once upon a time there was a king with three daughters. They were all beautiful, but by far the most beautiful was the youngest, Psyche. She was so beautiful that people began to neglect the worship of Venus, the goddess of love and beauty. Venus was very jealous, and asked her son Cupid (the boy with the arrows) to make Psyche fall in love with a horrible monster. When he saw how beautiful she was, Cupid dropped the arrow meant for her and pricked himself, and fell in love with her.

Despite her great beauty no-one wanted to marry Psyche. Her parents consulted an oracle, and were told that she was destined to marry a monster, and they were to take her to the top of a mountain and leave her there. The west wind took her and wafted her away to a palace, where she was waited on by invisible servants. When night came her new husband visited her, and told her that he would always visit her by night and she must never try to see him.

Although her invisible husband was kind and gentle with her, and the invisible servants attended to her every desire, Psyche grew homesick. She persuaded her husband to allow her sisters to visit her. When they saw how she lived they became very jealous and talked Psyche into peeking at her husband, saying that he was a monster who was fattening her up to be eaten and that her only chance of safety was to kill him. Psyche took a lamp and a knife, but when she saw her beautiful husband, Cupid, she was so surprised she dripped some hot wax onto his shoulder, waking him. He took in the situation at a glance and immediately left Psyche and the magnificent palace she had been living in disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Psyche roamed about looking for her husband, and eventually in desperation approached his mother, Venus. Still angry, the goddess set various tasks for Psyche, all of which she passed, with a bit of help from ants and river gods. At last Cupid found out what was going on, and he persuaded Jupiter to order Venus to stop her persecution of Psyche. Then they were married and lived happily ever after – and it really was ever after since Psyche was made a goddess.

(Story taken from here.)

Innocence.

Static.

I hear the buzz in my ears and my breath hitches. I drop everything and just lay my head back, eyes closed. The soothing strumming of a guitar fills my ears and a feeling of calmness washes over me. My heart stirrs and a warmth courses through my body. The source, small but forceful, in my core.

Drums.

The steady beat kicks in, willing my heart to match its rhythm. Beckoning me to lose myself in it completely. Simultaneously, the strings come in, rocking me back and forth. Each stroke a pull toward a different untangible direction.

Faster.

The tempo increases, sending small shocks coursing through my veins. Sparks going until they reach my fingertips and toes, leaving a buzzing sensation. The tone changes, going from lulling to exciting. Filling me with an indescribable emotion.

Words.

The raspy voice sings words of desperation. Tugging at my insides, making me want to speak words I am not aware of. Every word vein imprinted with on every inch on my body. With ink, invisible to everyone but myself. Making my feel it in my bones, my bones, my bones. My blood, my blood, my blood.

Oh my God.

(The Airborne Toxic Event – Innocence)