Home. Nothing like walking around and pretending to be in a mystical world with my sister in the desert. Especially after monsoon season. It smelled so wonderful. Like the entire desert was exhaling in relief of the cool rain.
(Source : residuetrail, via bbybearblues)
*Puts down mascara wand* “Were you just talking about sci fi with the pizza guy?”
My roommate just caught me having a conversation about sci fi with the pizza delivery man. Specifically Joss Whedon. We also discussed the hara-kiri scene in Serenity.
Sorry, I’m not sorry.
What I need right now:
1) To continue watching Indiana Jones.
2) Red wine.
3) A gluten free pizza (but that costs money so rice and veggies it is).
4) To stop only eating two rice cakes and a Cliff bar all day. That’s not eating.
5) There’s a Firefly movie and I want to fall asleep full and sleepy from wine.
6) Some good news.
7) For said good news to be emails, but come in the form of ice cream soup.
8)How great would it be if that was the form ALL good news came in?
9) Now I’m just being stupid.
10) Even numbered list.
11) Fuck it, odd numbers. And honestly I’m not even that much of an ice cream fan, but I just love ice cream soup and the process of making it. I really don’t want to work tonight. Good thing I love my major and the idea of projecting my own life onto some characters that do not exist sounds extremely good and refreshing right now.
12) I had to make it even. Call it undiagnosed OCD.
(Source : vegetablebunny, via mallorylucille)
(Source : claptbloom, via itsherfactory)
Summer Camp blog is still getting to me. In the best way.
(Source : considerthishippie, via millly)
The Weeknd- Kiss Land
The lyrics are a little cheesier than I’m used to with him, but he still makes music that’s on point with something. Love the almost horror movie porn star angle.
He’ll forever remind me of summer 2011.
That strange moment when I’m reading about a band on Ad Hoc and I have the lead singer’s number on the notebook open in front of me.
Because it’s been a while.
(via dollypardon)
Perpetual Bling Ring
An article I didn’t like enough to send to the editor, but didn’t hate enough to delete.
A couple Saturday mornings back I found myself watching “The Kardashian’s” in my favorite silk shorts, John Lennon t-shirt, a plate of eggs in my hand and feet on my thrifted coffee table. It took the entirety of two episodes to realize that I’d been mindlessly watching this self-indulgent and overspent family.
Through all of their drama, money parading, and event attending, I realized that I was feeding them exactly the food that they wanted: attention and validation that what they were doing was right. A brisk hour which, when compared to how many minutes a day I waste online shopping and thinking about the kitten I want, was nothing. While the phrase “a moment of my time” is sweet and innocent, therein lays the power of their program. What was supposed to be a quick breakfast turned into an unintentional morning spent watching a reality show far removed from reality itself.
Just as easily as it was for me to watch their program were they able to take up a chunk of my mind and energy. It’s highly unlikely that the Kardashian’s want their viewers to like them. Genuinely, at least. Like a habit hard breaking, most celebrities, nay, reality television celebrities, want only to stay relevant and important to the public. It isn’t a matter of being liked; it’s a matter of being worth those 60 minutes per episode. Is all this attention about human validation?
We all need something to make us feel relevant. The way we present ourselves to the world through fashion and what we talk about amongst strangers, all of it is just a step on this teetering ladder while on the climb to our life’s version of fame. There is an instinctive human desire to make some kind of impact on the world- high school bathroom stalls that scream “ [Name] was here!” graffiti on the subway, Instagraming a breakfast, or taking pictures of what you wore to school that day. The levels of such a may change, but the core goal doesn’t. We are all terrified of not having the opportunity to “leave our mark” on the world. This ability to fill that need is becoming easier through the various ways we can reach out to others.
The notion of fame is an interesting concept. But, what is “fame”? Over the years it’s become a platform- a soapbox for those so lucky to show power and own it. This ideal has trickled down the drainpipe of society into social media networks. Twitter, Tumblr, Instagram. There is a sense of a desire to solidify why we’re here. This raises an interesting question: Why are we now looking for such an avenue to be simultaneously defined and accepted by society? Are we becoming more insecure or more confident?
It can easily be argued that many people don’t ask for fame. They merely do what they love and the notoriety that comes along with it is just an added bonus. There’s nothing wrong with wanting this type of attention or even enjoying it for that matter. I exercise it myself all the time. There’s something comforting in admitting to wanting to be liked by others. I want attention just like the next person -validation for something that I’ve made and put out into the world. I want to make something organically. I want to stand back and watch the reaction from others. What I make should speak more of me than the money I spent on a dress I wear while standing to the side.
Such a cycle of fame cannot be squandered unless the person seeking the fame in question is satisfied. They never will be. The grass is always greener, and in this case, comes with the perks of adoration and a free iPhone.
We all have thoughts of “If I just get (blank) in my life I would be so happy” and desire validation that sticking out our neck is the right thing to do. This will never be enough, sadly,yet this is perfectly okay- for some. Admitting that we want attention is the first step to gaining it. The Kardashian’s are perfect example of this. So while I sat there for the duration of the morning questioning what I was doing with my life, I was able to live through their own world of diamonds, screaming, and blatant need to be liked by a world of strangers. Their paychecks are the paper proof that their lives are worth it. This desire for recognition will never cease, but as long as we don’t waste our time pining for it, only then will the void be semi-filled. Recognition will always be important- affecting people is a humanistic desire not shakable. The only thing left to do is find the proverbial bathroom stall you’re going to mark with your own black sharpie. You were here, after all.
