This is me typing on one hour of sleep. I'm still functional, still breathing (thank the lord), and still upright. I finished my essay at 4am and slept for about an hour. So this is about all I am capable of writing without falling face forward on the keyboard. Au revoir.
Its lunch time, I think bagels are in order. Chip Chip Cheerio!
This is a belated post about a shoot I participated in a few weeks ago. It was 60s inspired, yet modern. The team could not have been any better and more suited for this type of shoot. I think it turned out really well. Hope you guys like them as well. These are just some of the behind the scenes shots I took.
This past week Brian Graden, president of MTV, Logo, and VH1, came to speak at Mt. SAC. He spoke about his life, his career and his projects. The funny part of it all was when he compared every stage of his life to a reality tv show, that he would then go on to play a clip from. It sort of seemed like big ad for MTV. Nevertheless, he managed to capture my interest. Isn't that the most important thing? P.S. Well he was quite inspiring actually. His whole life story about how he was fired from his job and then he went to work at South Park. I think he is the reason that the show is on the air. (thanks Brian). Also he used to be married, to a woman! Considering the fact that he is gay, thats pretty surprising. How could a man who's had so many obstacles in life, turn out to be a president of one of the most popular networks in the world? Thats pretty interesting to me.
A cold and wet November dawn and there are no barking sparrows just emptiness to dwell upon.
I fell into a winter slide and ended up the kind of kid who goes down chutes too narrow just eking out my measly pies.
But I learned fast how to keep my head up 'cause I know there is this side of me that wants to grab the yoke from the pilot and just fly the whole mess into the sea.
Another slow train to the coast some brand new gory art from way on high I sink and then I swim all night.
I watch the ice melt on the glass while the eloquent young pilgrims pass and leave behind their trail imploring us all not to fail.
Of course I was raised to gather courage from those lofty tales so tried and true if you're able, I'd suggest it 'cause this modern thought can get the best of you.
This rather simple epitaph can save your hide, your falling mind fate isn't what we're up against there's no design, no flaws to find there's no design, no flaws to find.
But I learned fast how to keep my head up 'cause I know I got this side of me that wants to grab the yoke from the pilot and just fly the whole mess into the sea.
The poor,innocent, troglodytes of society bathe in the sunlight of the evening day. Jean Marie tilts her head up, slightly, in the manner of a former beauty queen. She behaves so very regal, its inspiring. You know she used to be beautiful, it is evident in her bone structure. Her jaw line defined, slightly masculine but very feminine simultaneously. Her cheekbones radiate from her face, resplendent almost, round and fine. Her nose is upturned, but ever so slightly. Her eyes, however, seem argumentative, angry, pensive. Their color is faded from years gone by of a life once lived. So yes, you can tell she was once a beauty. But now, the years have taken their toll. The bags under her eyes weigh on her, like anchors. She tries to cover them up anyway she can, with makeup, with treatments, with cold hard cucumbers (like she sees on t.v), but to no avail. It's all pointless. She won't resort to medical interventions either. She rationalizes that its beneath her. Surgery. Hmph! But the truth is that she can't afford it. She can barely afford her lunch that shes enjoying right now. She had finally had enough. What's one 5 dollar lunch she says? She's been saving and saving. She wants to escape from her meaningless job, her dead-end job, and her troll of a husband. She's what you would call a desperate housewife, the epitome of one, I would say.
mo- and thats as much as i have today. its an exercise in writing i would like to do everyday. hopefully i'll keep it up.
My cellphone is vibrating on the faux wood desk i've been assigned in my french 2 class. It goes on and on, for eternity, or, well, until I pick it up. Everyone hears it in the freakishly quiet room. They turn. I turn red. Then it all turns. The professor has noticed the vibrating, she smiles. Its one of those evil, wicked smiles. She's happy that she's caught me. Almost too happy. How could someone be so happy to catch someone red handed. (Well, backtrack. I know a lot of people who would be more than delighted to catch someone doing something naughty). She projects her lanky arm forward, palm open, waiting hungrily for my phone. Despondently, I hand it over, my face is now clearly upset. If you could visualize it: the eyebrows furled, squinched as tightly as possible. The forehead is another story all together, lines clearly visible like dried out riverbeds in the grand canyon. The eyes are red with fury, beaming at her, filled with nothing but disdain. The mouth is pursed shut, nothing could open it except a barrage of curse words aimed directly at the enemy. Thats what my face looks like.(Pretty isn't it?) But she will not get away with it! Yet, she already has. In front of my classmates, no less. I resign to the fact that my phone is now in her dried up bony old hands. Forever locked away, or, until class is over. At the end of class I will be sure to give her a pice of my mind, and it will be a big honkin' piece, cherry filled! The kid next to me witnesses everything, especially my rage. He keeps a safe distance. "Good thinking buddy" I say to myself. Best he stays away, for his own sake. Because I am about to rip this room apart with my rage! Or rather, like always, do nothing. Yeah, that sounds about right. By the end of class my vehement vexation has significantly worn off. I know, I was utterly out of line. I shouldn't have behaved in such a manner. I completely embarrassed myself, yet again. Nothing new in my book. Another one to add to the list of public mortifications. Who do I have to blame but myself. Not that it matters. I'm just ranting after all.
