say hi to 2013

Happy New Year

2013!!!

At Midnight, we say goodbye to 2012 and all it's crap and say hi to 2013 and all the joy I insist it brings. I really think 2013 may be my year. Not just because 13 is my favourite number, but also because there's nowhere to go but up. I have been somewhat meek despite all I've survived and meekness will no longer be a feature of my personality. I have only one resolution this year: NO BULLSHIT. I will not take crap from anyone, and I will not apologize for anything. I will do what I want, when I want and how I want - because I am me and I live for me and no one else. All my decisions will genuinely be my own and I will gladly accept reward or face consequence for anything I do. The past has never been further away than it is now. I have no regrets. I am content. I am at peace. 

I am ready to step forward, chin up, into the New World. 2013, here I come.

xx

Mister, Oh Mister...

I love what my man does to me. He makes me feel like we're the only people in the universe sometimes... ❤

teehee...

guinea piggies

Here are my babies, Tolstoy & Pushkin. Tolstoy is all tan and Pushkin is two toned. They are super sweet and make little Chewbacca-like sounds and it makes me giggle. <3

So long, BabyDoll...

It's been a while since I posted anything. I haven't been sleeping much. I have been eating too much. This does not make me happy.
I feel like such a failure in life. Walking around, trying to put on a happy face. I'm such an actress. I'm so good at it though. I think if I were ever to quit, no one would ever see it coming.

Leica

I want this so so bad.

past

I was in bed and trying to think of my romantic past and I realised I can't remember the names of almost all my past boyfriends. It's weird when you think you're totally falling for someone and years later you can't even remember their name! I guess that's life though... or maybe I've had too many boyfriends. O__o

look alive!

It's morning and I'm trying to get out if bed but I'm so so tired and my back hurts. I have to get up, do yoga, shower, eat soup/noodles (I'm on a noodle diet!) and do some work. but oh why can't I just lie here all day long???? >____<

*

look! It's my cats butt!!!!! o___O

birthday adventure!

We didn't get our tattoos. On my birthday, it was such a hot day, we just wanted to swim and chill. Y and her sis and myself all went swimming at a hotel and I did like a handspring in like, 4 feet of water... so, I hit my head real hard on the bottom of the pool and now I have a concussion. Also I fell in the parking lot and skinned my knee, bruised my leg and twisted my ankle. It was kind of funny because Y was like "Get up! No one saw!!!!!" It made me feel like some sort of celebrity who better not let the paparazzi get a pic of this because it's embarrassing I'm all dirty on the ground and there are like, pieces of gravel in my knee and blood is bubbling up and it's gross. But still it was hilarious as the same time - until the next day when I realised how much pain I was in and then it was all less funny.

STILL, it was the best birthday I ever had and Y gave me great, awesome gifts and a hilarious but lovely card and I kept it and put it on my wall for good memories. My brother and his girlfriend gave me a card of a rainbow puking unicorn, which I think might just be my definition of happiness. ^___^
And my mama and baba gave me a card of a bad ass smoking kitten and it reminds me of my kick ass awesome cats, although I would never let them smoke (in the house). o___O

It was the greatest birthday I've had, and I spent it with my awesome friend and her awesome sister and there were no fake friends around or annoying people I hate (most people fit into that category, I think). And it was fun, fun, fun till the pool took all my brain meats awayyyyy.... ;P

Robert Frost

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.   

His house is in the village though;   

He will not see me stopping here   

To watch his woods fill up with snow.   

My little horse must think it queer   

To stop without a farmhouse near   

Between the woods and frozen lake   

The darkest evening of the year.   

He gives his harness bells a shake   

To ask if there is some mistake.   

The only other sound’s the sweep   

Of easy wind and downy flake.   

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.   

But I have promises to keep,   

And miles to go before I sleep,   

And miles to go before I sleep.

-Robert Frost

I love that last stanza because it's like... I am morbid or rather I have these morbid curiosities and interests... I have a love/hate relationship with horror. I feel "close" to death (not like I'm about to die, but like I understand it very well) and so the thought of dying is like, not a huge deal to me. So that last bit is so special to me because it's like saying, "I can go deeper into this beautiful darkness... but I could get lost in it and I have promises to keep - things to do and people to see again and so I need to stay on my current path (life) and I have a long way to go before I die... I'll see the darkness then."

Does that make sense?

happy birthday to me.

My birthday is today. I honestly thought I wouldn't make it this far. Still don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing yet. (?)

So I'm getting a tattoo tomorrow (technically today but it's crazy early, so...) with my friend Y. So, I hope to post a photo of it this week sometime.

I've been really sick cuz I'm going off of a medication that's like, worse than going through heroin withdrawal. That's not an exaggeration. It's so dangerous and no one should be put on it. I get so mad at doctors sometimes, they can be so irresponsible. I used to respect them and only do what they say but at least 8/10 that's screwed me over so now - my body = my rules and that goes for what I put into it, including meds. My new doctor won't be happy I went off the medication, but it was that or suicide, so I think I made the logical choice.

So now it's my birthday and I'm still alive. I'm nervous about meeting my new doctor because there's so many bullshit stigmas that are attached to some of my disorders. You would think doctors of all people would know these things do more harm than good, but sadly, many don't. I hope she has no presumptions as to who I am or what I'm like. Even based on my diagnoses... I mean, everyone is different even if they share similar symptoms. I've never met a borderline who is like they are portrayed in the movies. Other than Girl, Interrupted. I mean, people say that Glenn Close played one in Fatal Attraction but that's bullshit. That chick was a psychopath. Borderlines or "beepers" as some call us... most of us love bunnies! :) That is just crazy.

Some crazy must be good because you have to be a little bit of a nutter to survive in today's world.
So Happy Birthday to crazy - but not rabbit boiling crazy - me.

Can't sleep...

Eyes.
Hands.
Teeth.
A sightless orb.
A shaky touch.
A crooked smile.

Lashes.
Nails.
Lips.
A nervous twitch.
A bitten stump.
An awkward laugh.

These are my eyes.
These are my hands.
These are my teeth.
These are my lashes,
my nails,
my lips.

A cracked, blue stone.

This is my heart.

Model Citizen

Freja Beha Erichsen...❤

Manta

Mr. Lee Alexander McQueen❤❤❤

Watch. Listen. Write. Draw. Dance. Play.

Distractions prolong my life. It's all about distractions. Find something to do. Something to look at. Find something - anything to occupy your mind other than what's naturally there. Sitting there, in the back of my mind - and at the forefront. Sitting there, like a lump on a log - like a dark, black thing. Creeping, oozing, whispering - no - SCREAMING.


"Die, die, die."


Distractions. Even if I have to use my Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Throw down coins and turn them all tails up, tails up is right. No heads.
All facing the same, proper direction.
Arrange them in an even, symmetrical fashion.
Make sure everything is straight.
Take a photo of it - to maintain evidence of this tiny perfection.

Calm.

That's how it works.

It's all in the distractions.

It's coming...

...

...

Fin.

this is emptiness.

Tonight I am sad.
Sad, sad, sad.
And lonely.
Always lonely.

I am not alone - I have a man, a family, friends... but I always feel alone. I am always lonely.

I hate this feeling. I feel so empty inside.

Heartbeats.

Heart beats.

He eats art, b!

;-P

teeth.

When I see someone smile, my first thought is: "is it fake or genuine?". False smiles are easy to detect for me, and they make me wonder about all the things that are behind them - or all the things that are missing behind them.

I see a man on the street with a closed smile. I think, "do you smile white and bright and happy? or do you have sharp metal teeth that you grind for nights on end, like me?"

Does anyone else wonder what's behind a smile? Mine is crooked and awkward, and rarely sincere. Does that make me a liar? I think we are all just playing a part, after all.

Does your heart smile? Or just the character you play?

These aren't so accurate I think, but...

私はあなたの言語を学びたい.
Je veux apprendre votre langue.
Jeg ønsker å lære språket.
Я хочу узнать ваш язык.
난 당신의 언어를 배우고 싶습니다.
Eu quero aprender o idioma.

...also Romani. I think the Roma are beautiful.

私は痛みに思います。私を解放してください。

insomnia.

NELL (넬) - 치유 MV

To you.

I don't know why I can't say these things anymore exactly. Perhaps it's because I'm afraid of you. Not afraid in the traditional sense. I am not afraid you will hurt me physically, or verbally. I am not afraid you will hurt me at all - not on purpose anyway. I know you love me. Perhaps it is because although I know you truly wish for my happiness, you have a selfish side - a side that is bigger, that overrides your wishes for me to be happy. I fear if I tell you my feelings, display my emotions, if I even frown - that you will be angry, annoyed or disappointed. I guess after all this time I have lost the will to stand up for my own heart. I am too tired, too weak. I can no longer bear to risk an argument with you. I don't think our love is strong enough to handle many more.

So now I bite my tongue. I can't tell you how I feel. I suspected this, but today I found out for sure. It's not the worst thing. It's just another sadness to add to my overbearing bundle of sadnesses I carry constantly on my back, in my mind.

I know you'd say "just tell me how you feel," and "it's okay." But I know it isn't. I can read you too well. It's too predictable.

I am afraid and so instead, I choose silence.

pop

So today I woke up and I felt a sudden sadness. I had been in a good mood for two days. It didn't feel right. It felt foreign. I am not comfortable with happiness- it's just not what I'm used to. My good mood faded, and I fell into a deep depression. I couldn't fathom how I was able to smile and laugh just the day before. It seemed like an act, and I detest false acts. Why anyone would be happy made no sense to me. All I saw everywhere around me was anger, sadness, helplessness, sickness, unrequited love and death. I saw longing that would never be fulfilled. Goals that would never be met. Nothing seemed important anymore. All but nature lost its depth - though at times, even the trees looked sad. I crawled into my bed - just me and some sad music, a fan blowing (I love the sound a fan makes), and my animals gathered around me, and I fell asleep. I fell asleep without my usual racing thoughts, without my worries or my "what ifs". I fell asleep as I never had before - empty. My hopelessness does not go much deeper than this. I am running out of time.

Today was a good day.

yeah... like that.

hey mister...

Mister, Mister Monster...
It is 3:14 a.m. and I'm still not tired. I'm going to shuffle to the bedroom and take my sedatives, my only hope for sleep. I'm going to drift off into dreamland in about an hour and a half - where I will dream the most terrifying things, as I do every night. Please wish me sweet dreams. xx

sincerely,
doll

i wrote a poem a few years ago...

city.

Broke, broken.

Like an addict doing his last line of coke and then overdosing

on a blood-stained carpet.

Deader than the streets at dawn on a Sunday.

Days, days pass before anyone even notices the smell.

Hell, it took a week last time. 

If it wasn't for the baby crying,

no one would have found the hookers' body in 5a.

Thank God for small favors.

Today I saw an old man dancing to the music of car alarms

as he waited for his son to return home from a war 

who knows when or where…

The street stinks of garbage after a light rain, 

and clouds of tobacco hang in the air.

Somewhere a stereo booms the sultry voice of Billie Holiday:

"Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze…"

Eerie melodies release you from any ease

you might have felt previously, if only for a moment.

You can never be too comfortable.

The street lights just turned on

and it will be night soon.

The paper-strewn alleyways 

fill quickly with those who have no beds

and dread the fear of no walls, no floors,

no locks, no doors to call their own.

A voice moans in the distance

and sends an unwelcome chill through my bones.

It rattles the senses.

I am aware, yet frightened.

My senses heightened, I walk briskly to my apartment

and go inside, locking all six deadbolts behind me.

I see, I see out the window

a girl staring blankly at an almost-burnt-out cigarette butt on the stairwell. 

It's clear she's not all there, 

and she sees angels in those tiny cinders.

And it really makes you wonder if 

aware is what we want to be,

when the crazy are the ones who can so clearly see

the only things worth looking at anymore.

A flea-infested cat screeches, howls into the dark

as the night settles in and stifles my thoughts.

I can hear the thump-thumps

of my neighbors sin 

against the wall, as I curl up into a ball 

and drift, drift off to sleep

with one eye open.

© 2010 doll.li

They fear that which they do not understand.

No one is really safe.

It doesn't matter if you're a successful business woman, a rich politician, a schoolteacher, a straight A student, or a drug addled prostitute - no one is ever really safe. Everyone has their own personal demons - their monsters. And if you think you don't, if you think your life is covered in sugar and happiness and nothing can ever hurt you, there is always someone you know willing to inflict their monsters upon you.


No one is really safe.


But what if you were "no one"?


Well, in that case, I guess you'd be really safe now, wouldn't you?