(no subject)
when I get out of art school I want to rent a studio apartment and have all my furniture be foldable or rollable except a mattress on the floor with a huge down comforter and instead of having real chairs just have a pile of secondhand pillows and a bean bag chair where people can sit and I'll paint and draw and try to get by and I'll walk around aimlessly and think about how maybe if I work really hard and try to be personable and polite and tell the truth always and if I always do my best work and don't settle for anything less than the best I can do that maybe maybe maybe I can be pleased with myself, because even if my body is repulsive and my skin is shameful and my habits are gross and my mannerisms are awkward and mismanaged and even if I never find love and am always alone and without anybody to hold my hand and say they love me at least at least at least I will have good work to show for it because my art will succeed me my art will succeed me my art will succeed me my art will succeed me my art will succeed me and now succeed has lost its meaning and it just sounds like a jumble of tongues in my head how weird and I decided that I don't like ending my sentences ever and I am so confused about what my whole everything is that this whole plan will probably change tomorrow
but whatever
I just want a bunch of pillows to flop in and a big space to do art in and who is to say that my home can't be a mish mash of pillows and paper because now I am growing up and I can decide if I want to have a table and a chair and a sofa or if I want to fill my rooms with playpen balls
the other day, I was talking to Ben about how I was going to treat myself to some nice paper
and I realized that I really want to be the pretty girl that takes care of herself and is liked by everyone and does tons of different things like base jumping and bear wrestling and knows all the constellations and also draws really pretty pictures. I want to be the skinny pretty girl who dresses well and has artsy plaid clad boyfriends and goes to tons of music and art shows and gets drunk with her friends but I don't think that's me. I feel fake when I dress in pretty clothes and I feel awkward and out of place in nice things and I can't talk to people so I think I am going to try and be more honest with myself and live healthier and not eat so much junk and eat more mango instead and I'm going to not care if my pants get stuff on them when I'm working and wear plainer clothes like tons of white shirts I'm gonna buy one of those economy packs of fruit of the loom white shirts goddamn! and solid-color hoodies because goddamn I love hoodies and I should invest in a couple pairs of vans slip-ons, one black and one white, and I will look regular but I will be crazy on the inside and when people say stupid shit I won't be quiet anymore ok because I am so GODDAMN SICK of being quiet when people say stupid shit and I am tired of pretending that I like everyone I meet and trying to be liked because of some goddamn insecurity that I have so instead I am going to bear it proudly: yeah I'm gonna treat myself to some nice goddamned paper instead of some nice shoes because every shoe I buy makes my feet bleed and then more calloused and gross and uncomfortable to look at and paper at least turns something out other than scabs but I am going to try and take better care of my feet because the poor things take me everywhere including to caimbridge I need to hang out at caimbridge more I like caimbridge despite what other people say I think it's an interesting area
and I will listen to tons and tons of cap'n jazz and use unneccessary capslock and I'll be the ginger ale girl
all through high school I just kept pursuing this weird indie persona that I thought I wanted but I think I just want to be a weird artist that just likes what she likes and bickity bam look where I am I got exactly what I wanted without even knowing it
I am fat I am as big as a house and I draw some stuff that I dont know what it is but I love the way it looks and I like the new thing I'm doing with disjointed limbs and little olive eyes and WORDS and I am also incredibly socially inept but I try my best to be nice to people and make their stay in my company as pleasant as possible even if it means bad jokes and worse conversation I NEED TO DO LAUNDRY OH MY GOD. and I have so much work to do on finals I need to stop this shit and just DO.
I wonder what this would've turned out like if I were drunk or high or on shrooms or too tired to think because I'm thinking pretty clearly just quickly but I think this would be much weirder if I were fucked up and that would be perfectly okay