Current Stat(us)

This month has brought upon me a paradigm shift.
If i have to write one more fucking college essay i will kill someone, literally. i feel like doing all this preliminary work to apply to schools I most likely won't make it into is a true test of my patience (which is wearing thin, for friends, parents, and especially myself.)
Please don't ever clean out your car. I love seeing little pieces of your life slapped into the backseat. its very poetic, if you can write it down in the right way.
New York City is very intimidating-- i cant do it by myself.
I'm so ready for you and what we have ahead of us. He makes me feel very alive, somewhere in between the sheets in his bed and our sweaty palms on car rides home, i found myself in the noise.
I get very dizzy when i think about you sinking down between my legs. I love the feeling of your hair and the smell of the crook of your neck.
"i was thinking about maybe applying to NYU"
Colleges are emailing me non stop and i cant help but feel as though its false flattery-- like most other things in my life.
except this, being your aforementioned girl.
train ride home from the city, i will try to tell you i will choke on fear
perfume of romance, tu-lip(s) petals jammed into my mouth and growing from bruised collars
10 months.
10 months.
i really like you too
$8 and 5 condoms because we didn't use the last few
Maybe college wont work out, i can come live at your house
you're all i need but i'm pretty sure my parents will never see, ah, let it be.
because you are water twelve feet deep and i am boots made of concrete
"is it weird that i really enjoyed that?"
10 months
colleges are asking for my permanence, but i left it all in the grooves of your vinyls and the space between your eyes.

"Girl Crushez" how my peer-goddesses got me through high school

When i first met Brigid, she was dating my older ( and totally rad) cousin, Ryan. I was ten. She was 15. She took me to flea markets and taught me how to shoot a camera. She was my first girl crush, i found myself ALWAYS asking Ryan to hang out. i must've been pretty fucking annoying to a 17 year old boy trying to score with his totally beautiful girl, but i didn't care. Brig made me feel welcome, even though i totally cramped her bohemian style with my pre-pubescent voice and lavender crocs. On my 14th birthday, she wrote me a note. i was heading into my freshman year of high school, and she wrote me a handwritten, 2 page long letter about how much high school fucking sucks; and she was right.

During my sophomore year, i had a long-distance admiration/obsession with another girl, Emily. she was a great artist, had the most beautiful hair, and always wore a Fleet Foxes crop top. I never spoke to her, or even met her, but i loved her anyway. i looked forward to seeing her everyday, i took the long route to class to see what great outfit she was wearing that day. i used to feel really weird about this secret admiration, but i came to realize, i wasn't alone. not only was i not alone, but I was the admiration of someone's eye too.

During my junior  year of highschool, i made a great friend, Bailey. we had absolutely nothing in common, but we made it work anyway. actually, its still pretty fucking weird that we're close. she'd talk to me about taylor swift and i'd talk about artists i was following but for some reason, things always still worked. She told me she thought i was the coolest thing, like somehow wearing Black Flag t shirts and reading Rookie Mag made me special or individual. It was a weird concept to grapple with, especially when i realized i was Bailey's Brigid, or Emily or Hazel Cills (another long-term girl crush).
At first, i was flattered. i think admiration from anyone your age is a pretty rad thing to receive every once in a while. But the more i thought about it- the more uncomfortable it made me. I was no where near as beautiful as Brigid, as graceful as Emily or as kick-ass as Hazel. I was--me; i ate pb&j sandwiches everyday and i read a lot of Jane Austen and built sets for my school musicals. I felt like a nobody, but on someone's eyes i was great, and you know what, that's pretty fucking cool.
As i started to come to terms with my new found follower, i realized that being admired wasn't the worst thing. i was scared because i had spent so much of my high school career hiding in the library, eating lunch with my English teacher, and i never thought people noticed me. I was also oddly intimidated by the comment, because all of the women i admired i thought were pseudo-goddesses, and i could never be on their "level", whatever that means.
As i've grown older and learned more and more about myself and my passions, I'm not nearly as insecure as i was. I've started zining, and blogging more actively and writing music. I still actively follow some of my old girl crushes on tumblr, twitter etc, and i even visit Brigid at college sometimes too. Growing into a femme fatale with other cool gals as my inspiration has been a really great experience and i highly recommend finding a totallllllly rad chick in your school or on the inter-web to fangirl to yourself over. and who knows, maybe one day you'll cross paths. Girl crushes are the fucking bomb, and you may even be someone's special long-distance gal. 

(Untitled)

there is no good way to begin an essay like this one. there is no good way to begin anything really, there is just a small (or sometimes, very large) bundle of feelings in someones' gut and they vomit up all of these thoughts and feelings and write about them on their blog or in their diary or on a wall in spray paint somewhere. i did not have a wall, any money for spray paint, or a diary. but i do have a blog. so here it is.
I don't want to feel like everything i do is less than valuable. i don't like feeling that my tiny speck of a life on this earth is trivial and banal and stupid and hollow. i want to make art and take photos and i have all these great ideas in my head and visions and words to say in meter but i don't know how. i want someone to brush my hair and braid it into cornrows even though it's much too short and there would be little pieces sticking out everywhere. i want that person to make art too, and read and eat junk food without feeling bad after and see their breath inside a tent on a fall morning. i miss feeling young. i feel so old and decrepit already and i'm only seventeen. i feel like my soul has aged so much faster than my body; that if i were to peel away my soft curves and full head of hair i'd be frail and riddled with spider veins. where has my youth gone? i think i lost it somewhere between my first diet and the last Nancy Drew novella. wait, no, fuck no, Nancy Drew are novels, they are dignified and right.
 i want to make art and make other people feel things.
i want someone to look at my photographs, and feel the same things i felt when i first saw Gustav Klimt's, The Kiss. that would make me valuable. that would make me happy. that would make my hair grow faster and back ache less when i'm on my period. i want someone to appreciate me. i want to be a virgin again. i want to get drunk and tell someone i love them and start crying in their arms. i want my best friend to call me up sometime, so i don't have to. i don't want to be in love. i want validity. i crave happiness and fulfillment and honesty. i want to live in a city with no money and only a jar of mustard and celery in the fridge. i miss the time where i was more than "what college will you be attending?" and "really... art as a major?". art is invaluable. people are invaluable.
i think artists are the most honest people, they paint and capture reality as they see it. everyone else just walks around and assumes that what they perceive is correct and just and true. i feel like being an artist i have a big responsibility to say something with my art. sometimes art is just... art. sometimes its meaningless and hollow like a lot of people in this world. and thats okay, i think, because if everything were heavy and large and round they'd be hard to swallow and lots of people would choke and die on their own self enlightenment. i think that's very much a reality for a lot of people. i very much believe that i am one of those people.

Medianeras "Buenos Aires in times of virtual love"

Medianeras, (Sidewalls) was a film about the unlikely romance of two neighbors brought together through technology, Where's Waldo books, and mannequins. Directed by Gustavo Taretto, the story of two damaged souls and their lives in Buenos Aires pulls at your heartstrings.
The film opens with scenes from Buenos Aires, narrated in Spanish by Martin, the young web designer in love with technology. Martin talks about the city, his apartment, the hierarchy that the city is built upon and how clearly it can be seen. Martin's only vice in the world is the internet, internet dating, online shopping, porn; he has been consumed by the almighty World Wide Web. Next door, Mariana is a young architect making ends meet by designing store front displays. In between cigarettes, Mariana searches her Where's Waldo book, desperate to solve the only puzzle that has evaded her since she was 14- the city.

Throughout the movie, you see parallels between the two and beg at the screen for them to meet. although it never happens until the end, the do chat online through an anonymous chatting service. Medianeras is kept interesting through not only the plot, but also the monologues, the attention to the city, cartoons, dynamic characters, and stories told by the two. The sweet, satisfying ending ties the film together perfectly with good feelings all around. this was my first Argentinian movie, the first of what i'm sure will be many more.