Synthetica Morbidica

"Half arsed opinions create panic attacks inside their tea cups. Pleasantries die oh so defiantly against their well invested patrons. The thin lifeline is playing the harp on the saliva between their grinding teeth. Other tables can hear the music, but they cannot sense the melody"

uuuh the possibly maybe basic dude didnt come to class. I guess he was off buying khaki bermuda shorts somewhere

off to school. not wearing that tho cuz damn i dont wanna get my pretty vintage dress all nastied up with pastel chalk or anythin so like im gonna go downstairs and switch to wat i like to call my model-going-to-auditions uniforms which is basically all black, black top black pants black shoes. i have this guy at my class idk whats up with that really and i can usually TELL for satan’s sake. obvi all the students work in the studio in a circle with a tall platform in the middle with all the objects randomly scattered on different low and high surfaces. this guy always works right in front of me. and it’s pretty fuckin awkward to even mention, but i can’t tell whether he’s staring at me all the time or the fuckin object, obvi like he looks at the object because that’s wat he works on duh but there are too many occasions where our eyes meet and then i’m the first to back out which says that im prolly the one that is mostly uncomfortable with the intimacy of two people’s eyes meeting which is so true i guess when it comes to a boy i like. him tho ? he’s pretty basic but that’s the thing he has this little spark of genius to him that i can’t figure out. something quite whimsical that sets him apart from everyone else. and the fact I CAN’T figure him out obvi, puts him on a pedestal even more. i need more class sessions and more time in the studio to figure him out, so far i sat next to him on a bench right outside of school and we didn’t exchange a word. he just smoked and ate a sandwich and i tried to sit as faaaaar as possible on the extreme end of the bench so it doesn’t seem like i am violating any personal space. i am not good in PURSUING. 
studio time is intimating but awesome. i get this antsy feeling in this imagined space right near the cavity of my heart and it magically transports all the way back to different events in my life. it’s a space i’ve been living with for a while now. this antsy feeling, it expands and gorges on my fears, revolves around its own axis with an inflamed sense of entitlement. madness. 
idk if i should mention this or not, cuz i dont want to get anyone into trouble. i mean, i have been FORBIDDEN to mention anything about him because well, that will classify under the hefty book of rules i have been given on the matter as a pure VIOLATION, so i will stop here. but there’s another element to school that involves someone from my past that makes the whole experience quite daunting. last week i almost ran into one of my exes. not just any ex, i mean. mythological ex. THE ex. i mean, prolly to this day, the only guy (besides the notorious sadist bastard with a gf which we will call “Dead”) that i loved. he knows that. i know that. great. i was going to get some coffee in recess, i was taking the turn right around the corner, and there i noticed him. a tall lengthy cat stretching his arms all mighty and shit. his tattoos, the same, maybe some new ones ? his dog, which i have only seen in pictures. some guys around him which i assume are his posse. i immediately turned back, like, in a radical way. in a sad comic way. in a way that i hope nobody noticed, but they did. because, that was so clumsy. i just ran. ran back to that bench outside of school. it’s been years since i’ve seen him. he hasn’t changed, and even tho i only saw his back, he looked the same. the stretching, that body language, all the same.
i hope i dont run into him again. eye contact with some possibly out of the ordinary but quite possibly ONLY basic guy. somewhere in between, actually being a student. uhm. yeah ? 

off to school. not wearing that tho cuz damn i dont wanna get my pretty vintage dress all nastied up with pastel chalk or anythin so like im gonna go downstairs and switch to wat i like to call my model-going-to-auditions uniforms which is basically all black, black top black pants black shoes. i have this guy at my class idk whats up with that really and i can usually TELL for satan’s sake. obvi all the students work in the studio in a circle with a tall platform in the middle with all the objects randomly scattered on different low and high surfaces. this guy always works right in front of me. and it’s pretty fuckin awkward to even mention, but i can’t tell whether he’s staring at me all the time or the fuckin object, obvi like he looks at the object because that’s wat he works on duh but there are too many occasions where our eyes meet and then i’m the first to back out which says that im prolly the one that is mostly uncomfortable with the intimacy of two people’s eyes meeting which is so true i guess when it comes to a boy i like. him tho ? he’s pretty basic but that’s the thing he has this little spark of genius to him that i can’t figure out. something quite whimsical that sets him apart from everyone else. and the fact I CAN’T figure him out obvi, puts him on a pedestal even more. i need more class sessions and more time in the studio to figure him out, so far i sat next to him on a bench right outside of school and we didn’t exchange a word. he just smoked and ate a sandwich and i tried to sit as faaaaar as possible on the extreme end of the bench so it doesn’t seem like i am violating any personal space. i am not good in PURSUING. 

studio time is intimating but awesome. i get this antsy feeling in this imagined space right near the cavity of my heart and it magically transports all the way back to different events in my life. it’s a space i’ve been living with for a while now. this antsy feeling, it expands and gorges on my fears, revolves around its own axis with an inflamed sense of entitlement. madness. 

idk if i should mention this or not, cuz i dont want to get anyone into trouble. i mean, i have been FORBIDDEN to mention anything about him because well, that will classify under the hefty book of rules i have been given on the matter as a pure VIOLATION, so i will stop here. but there’s another element to school that involves someone from my past that makes the whole experience quite daunting. last week i almost ran into one of my exes. not just any ex, i mean. mythological ex. THE ex. i mean, prolly to this day, the only guy (besides the notorious sadist bastard with a gf which we will call “Dead”) that i loved. he knows that. i know that. great. i was going to get some coffee in recess, i was taking the turn right around the corner, and there i noticed him. a tall lengthy cat stretching his arms all mighty and shit. his tattoos, the same, maybe some new ones ? his dog, which i have only seen in pictures. some guys around him which i assume are his posse. i immediately turned back, like, in a radical way. in a sad comic way. in a way that i hope nobody noticed, but they did. because, that was so clumsy. i just ran. ran back to that bench outside of school. it’s been years since i’ve seen him. he hasn’t changed, and even tho i only saw his back, he looked the same. the stretching, that body language, all the same.

i hope i dont run into him again. eye contact with some possibly out of the ordinary but quite possibly ONLY basic guy. somewhere in between, actually being a student. uhm. yeah ? 

Can i be completely honest wo being crucified or misunderstood ?
Its not about taking chances its about your abilities to encompass other people’s differences.

selling this amazing dress off my personal collection, as you can prolly see here, there will be more to come. and yes, i am getting blonder and blonder by the minute. it is not completely ridic to revoke the notion i cud hit some really high white kristen mcmenamy notes within this crazy transition. i might lose my hair, but i’ve been demi moore gi jane bald before and i can do it again. i’m not fucking scared of anything. i wish i cud tell u guyz i learned it from beyonce so i can sugar coat all that pristine clean cut round shape image you have of her, or that i got it from my mama, or that i was born like this gagaesque evil marketing bullshit, but it’s more like..a straight good ol’ fashioned i don’t give a fuck man. ya know ? 
grab this sexy mothafucka @ alien says jump while you still can.

selling this amazing dress off my personal collection, as you can prolly see here, there will be more to come. and yes, i am getting blonder and blonder by the minute. it is not completely ridic to revoke the notion i cud hit some really high white kristen mcmenamy notes within this crazy transition. i might lose my hair, but i’ve been demi moore gi jane bald before and i can do it again. i’m not fucking scared of anything. i wish i cud tell u guyz i learned it from beyonce so i can sugar coat all that pristine clean cut round shape image you have of her, or that i got it from my mama, or that i was born like this gagaesque evil marketing bullshit, but it’s more like..a straight good ol’ fashioned i don’t give a fuck man. ya know ? 

grab this sexy mothafucka @ alien says jump while you still can.

Thinkin that the next dude i fuck shud prolly be like 20 yrs older than me
*note to self tbh*

oooOOoOOoOoh yeah 
shout out from my new closet room wat up east coast west coast gimme some love 

oooOOoOOoOoh yeah 

shout out from my new closet room wat up east coast west coast gimme some love 

i got to talk about you way too much lately, which is understandable but also dangerous. if i talk about you too much i tend to miss you, if i miss you too much, then i fall off the wagon, i go off the good path, all this time putting myself in the right channels, it’s all going to go to waste. it’s hard keeping myself away. you’re too good, like heroin. you don’t care about me. you use me then you toss me aside, i’m all too aware and ive been hurt way too much to do this to myself again. i always ask myself: why do we fall for people, who aren’t even attracted to us, don’t even see us as valid candidates for relationships ? why are there such imbalances in nature ? why such occurrences happen, emotionally, and these are to be called, of course, natural, every day mundane occurrences - it’s all too often when people mismatch, and no too often when they do and so well. why such atrocities happen, and why are they so crucial, biologically, emotionally, inter-personally. i guess such questions are easier to answer, and they will satiate my ever-increasing mind blowing mammoth sized confusion as to why i fell for him only so partially, it will all just drive me further insane. questions with perfect answers, you see, are dangerous to ask when you equate them with the answer to the big ol’ WHY - why did this tragedy happen to me. why did i have to fall for a hopeless case. for a person so fucked up, i don’t even know how to help him myself. with so many problems, on so many levels. with a long term girlfriend. who is everything i’m not (but hey, that’s a silver lining, thank god i’m nothing like her) i keep away, because ive got something to lose. when fluctuation is the name of the game, i am the first and last victim. fluctuation, must not happen. heroin, is the love of my life, but not a friend. 

I recently decided to end some toxic relationships that were weighing me down. I feel liberated and empowered. I was born from black and I will fade to black, nothing feels more me, I can’t settle for less
-a moment in my new room at the new house

I recently decided to end some toxic relationships that were weighing me down. I feel liberated and empowered. I was born from black and I will fade to black, nothing feels more me, I can’t settle for less

-a moment in my new room at the new house

so this taxi driver the same guy within the same hr and i get a vibe