I was tempted to write up some lofty, self-important bullshit about being a young artist and detailing all the shit that inspires me, but after reading some of the introduction posts and quickly getting the big picture, I've decided against it.

I used to be very into introspective writing. Some time ago -- I can't point to a specific event -- I ( Read more... )

It may be the I've-been-awake-for-far-too-long-ness talking, but I'm going to participate in LJ Idol again this year. :O

There is wind and white clumps of clouds. There is patchy grass, growing in clusters; the earth under and in between is solid, but damp and rich. Far off, I see thick trunks of trees frothy with the high spring green and heavy with pollen, like acne. The sun slashes everything yellow and white and strings to heaven steal my vision when the ( Read more... )

Look, I'm using the banner!


( Read more... )

What do people say about me?

I have no fucking clue. Despite the fact that I can read people very well, have a solid grasp on who I think I am, and am an enthusiastic Psychology major, I have a very limited idea of how others view me ( Read more... )

As I'm writing this, it's 18 minutes before I turn 20. I remember being 12 driving down Goldsboro Road with my dad and him saying, "Wow, you're going to be a teenager soon. That's a scary thought."

Well Dad...I'm going to not be a teenager soon. Isn't that even scarier?

16 minutes.I thought I was going to grow up to play piano. I thought I ( Read more... )

Billy? Billy, co'mere and listen to your sad old granny tell you a story. A damn fine story, I'd say. Better than that bunk they're throwing at'cha on Tee Vee these days. You know I didn't have a Tee Vee until I was ninety-two. Ninety-two! You know how old that is? Course you don't.

Where are my glasses? I can't see yer face.

Anyway.

( This is the tale of Wallpuncher McBismuth )

He's got a long, too-long nose and deep set, pin-point eyes. Green skin, sick algae soup under not-too-tight cellophane. He smiles up at you from within a candy-stripe suit not washed for years and introduces himself with a Georgia peach smile. Rotten, too sweet, but the sun's all over it ( Read more... )

LJ Idol Week 20There's a scar on the ring finger of my right hand, a string of small white islands with a few stitches of hair peeping out before the joint. If I didn't point it out under bright lights and tell you the story, you wouldn't notice it. But after it's explained, I wince and it seems to grow and slice open again ( Read more... )

You know what? Fuck everyone in LJ Idol. What a bunch of self-absorbed, overly sensitive sad-hats. I consider myself someone to take things far too personally, especially on the internet, and I'm nowhere near as pansy as this lot. (before I get some whining over here, in case anyone bothers to read me--this isn't pointed at anyone in particular, ( Read more... )