B&W Photography

Black and white pictures are georgous.

They always have this mood to them that I couldn't capture using any other type of coloring. Sometimes, after converting them (this might sound creepy/weird) I just kinda sit there and go, "wow. That's pretty."

Like this one. So intimate and loving.

Mysterious. And the lines look great.

And even happy. I frikkin love B&W photography.

"Just a little F.Y.I"

People.
Everyone's afraid of things.
I'm a people.
And I'm afraid of everything. How pathetic is that?

So I know that this isn't my personal diary or anything (side note, I kept a diary for two years. Wrote in it every day. "Today I..." it was basically a travel log. I ended up thinking "Hey, this is bullcrap. I don't write about my feelings at all. I'm too afraid to. Maybe someone will read it." so I stopped, this January. Just quit, cold turkey. I picked it back up again a few weeks ago, wrote down the major events - like how my favoritest teacher ever, Ms. Lyons, is going to Korea next year to teach band there and abandoning me, or how I met Trevor and I'm so happy and the major conversations we've had - but then I realized I was doing the same thing. So again, it's over. But I had to vent somewhere, so I remembered my blog and picked it back up and brought it out of the closet. And now I'm writing my feelings, a bit at least, more than my Dear Diary ever saw, and it feels weird but nice. Even if no one reads it, it's like simply sending my regular human feelings out into the Interwebs to maybe be picked up by someone is calming down some of the inner issues. Although I don't ever talk about the major issues and never will, it's the thought that I could that matters) (That was the longest side note ever) and oh dear I can't even remember where I was going with this before I splattered my thoughts all over the screen. I think it had something to do with how much you (assuming you're even there) are going to read about my insecurities and fears. It'll probably get really depressing and boring. So, like me with my diary, feel free to quite cold turkey anytime. It won't bother me as long as you don't tell me about it.

Guard Dogs and Laser Beams

I have a wall. I like to think that it's a teeny tiny decorative wall with footholds for climbing over... But I don't think that's it.

Trains. Again. Sorry.

I've been told that this looks like a Levi Jeans advertisement. *sigh*

And that this looks like cover art for a band. Eh.

However, I love this one very much. Probably because it was candid. Candid photos that turn out well are my favoritest thing next to TunaPickleMustard sandwiches.

Trains.

I think I have an obsession with trains. And I haven't a clue why. Maybe it goes back to when I went to Europe and we traveled by train all the time. And there was nothing better than knowing that we had the entire train to ourselves for three hours and we could just sit in an empty, cushy compartment and play chess forever with the pastoral scenes edging by. Maybe it's because trains are the epitome of everything I love - comfort, travel, slower-paced, old-fashioned. Or maybe it's just because the Hogwarts Express is the bomb-diggedy.

They're amazing.

Everyone goes with trains. Or maybe it's Trains go with Everyone. They're beautiful, whatever it is.

Staying in the moment kills future ones.

So I'm not really that type of person that stays in the moment. Actually not at all. When people say, "I'll love you forever", or "No one's ever made me feel the way you make me feel", I always think "Yeah right. We'll part ways eventually. And someone's made you feel like this before."

And I'm tired of it. Can't I be a teenager and think about nothing but my boyfriend's arms around me? Can't I say "I'll love you forever" and not feel/know that I'm lying through my smiling teeth?

No. That's not me. Dangit.

me:part 1

Woah. Haven't been on here in a long long time. It's a bit desolate.

So I'm sitting here, trying to find the perfect way to end my paper for English so that I can be remembered as a "good kid, wrote good papers, got one here somewhere...", freaking inside about my F on the Biology test and equally freaked about the harder makeup test coming up and all the homework/studying I need to cram, reading people's blogs and getting angry that people are so open about everything on the Interwebs (Seriously... It's not your private diary) and mentally blowing up. All at the same time. Also, texting my boyfriend. But that doesn't count because it's not stressing me out. And then suddenly I just felt... lost I guess? Like nothing is me and I'm just going through the motions. Getting good grades because it's expected of me and I'm too afraid not to, too afraid to fail and not reach the bar my sister set, too afraid that my mom will be disappointed in me. All of the creative blogs that I'll never make, pictures I'll never take, and curfews that I'll never break. Because I'm too afraid of the consequences. I'm terrified of consequences. And I realize that I'm a hypocrite for spilling my guts, even though no one sees them, (because who'd read my blog, anyways?) when I say that it's annoying for others to do the same. At least I don't bash on people and give names, right? Right. I feel like I'll never do anything above mediocre. I'm a jaded realist. I'm not all the time, at least I don't act like it, but I know that relationships won't last forever, people talk about others behind their backs, war starts over stupid little things that murders and butchers thousands of people, and that ice-cream won't be there the next time you go to get it because someone else will already have devoured it. You know how girls act like little idiots so that men will puff out their chests, wrap their arms around them, and protect them even if they don't need to be protected? I used to think that was the stupidest thing in the entire world. I knew that I'd never need my Prince Charming to show up because he never would. But now that I have someone, I understand. I understand all the little infinite rules to twist a guy around your finger so that he won't leave you(luckily, I don't need to use them. I don't have the kind of guy that needs twisting). Falling down and being abandoned are two of the primal fears that everyone's born with, and I was lavishly gifted in the latter department. Falling down is terrifying; being abandoned by people is twenty million times scarier than that. Even if it's a social fall, I'd take that over being left alone. So I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm scared of everything, and I realize this in myself. I have dreams but I know they're just dreams. I build a wall around myself with sarcastic humor that doesn't let people get very close to me, because if they did they'd see me for the nobody that I am. And then I'd be alone.

this has taken a bizarre turn. it doesn't make sense. but, welcome to me. i'm a pessimistic, jaded realist who overthinks things, packaged in a weird little box with yellow sunshine painted over.