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Ellie explains life.

Sep. 20th, 2008 | 05:41 pm
Music: "Modern Girl" - Sleater-Kinney

DISCLAIMER: If youve read any of my other more intelligent blogs, you probably know they are long, wordy, and all have at least one good point in them, whether you realize it and take it away from it or not. The point is that you stick with me until I've made my point, even if you skim through the really shit parts.
This one's like that. I suggest you just go for it, read the whole thing, that's the way it was meant.
If you don't wan't to, I understand. I didn't really want to write it. It just sort of... happened, I guess.

I've realized lately that alot of who I am is very hard to decipher. This may sound stupid, but it counts in the end. What I'm saying is, I am multi-faceted, but alot of those facets are surface things you might observe after seeing me in class for a few months or talking to me for a long time.
I often tell people to be confident, don't take other people's crap, don't fall into line, don't become a statistic, etc.
I am, in truth, very low in confidence. This is mostly due to the fact that I think too much, and when this happens, I realize how pathetic I am. I really have a hard time practicing what I 'preach'.
Other people really do affect me, but not in the way that they would affect most others. I sometimes look at other people as something I can learn, something I can take something from and use it.
Sometimes, when people treat me particularly horribly, I take that as an observation of how not to appeal to people.
I am only saying this because people in general bother and disturb me, but do not affect who I am.

The reason I tell people not to take other's crap, it's because I've spent most of the last three years taking said crap, until I've finally realized that this is completely the wrong way to live my life. So I 'preach' to others what I fucked up on, in hoped that perhaps they will realize sooner than I did what is really truly important in life, and stick with that.

When I say, "What is really, truly important" I mean it.
Think about yout day-to-day life. I'm assuming most of the people who read my blog or know me are still in highschool or have graduated recently.
You wake up, brush and wash things, get clothes on, make sure you're presentable, and then leave. You go to your bus stop (I'm using myself as an example here. You yourself may be a fan of the morning parental car-ride. I am not. It gives them twenty more minutes to bitch at me about what I'm doing wrong with my life and is also a terrible waste of resources - my patience, and also gas, which is much more expensive and of much more value to my parents...). Once you get on the bus, you sit with your friends (assuming you have some). You go to school.
Now let's take school as an example, it's prime.
Is school important?
Sure it is. I am answering my own question here, because it's pretty much rhetorical anyhow. School teaches you everything you need to succeed! Failure is not an option! It breeds the next generation! Cliche, yes, but what do you see in the hallways on the posters that are posted there? School is, however, all sarcasm aside, important.
It teaches you math, English, the sciences, the languages, the arts, some people who are less introverted than I may or may not participate in sports or clubs other than artistic ones.
School also teaches you other things. Fear. Fads. Loneliness. Comparison. Conformity. Culture. Consumerism. Hatred. Discrimination. Despair. Deadlines. Dead ends. Death. Pain. Teenage angst. Just to name a few of the more common. It basically teaches you to be human, and know where you stand in society.
But in the long run, the big picture, the whole 'real life' thing that everyone seems to be skipping out on these days, is school really important? I mean, it teaches you. Without it you're fucked come time to apply for a job or pretty much anything in life.
But I'm not talking about that, I'm talking about life.

When you look at the big picture (I realize for others this may mean something completely different than how I view it), is it important?
No, I am not dropping out, I just want to prove a point.
I'm saying that nothing in life is really important unless it's important to you. I realize the example I used is wildly unrealistic, but look whose blog this is and then tell me that's unusual...
I used school as an example because from the time we are old enough to go to school, we are old enough to make decisions, to have opinions. Mostly, these are trial versions of our later feats, but nonetheless, we are. As for a non-trial version, I want you to apply this one to yourself.
When you look at your life in, say, 30 years, where do you see yourself if you were to follow the path that will make you the most successful or the most popular?
Are you seriously happy doing that?
Probably not. You probably will regret the day you decided to give up your dreams and interests for what is appeasing to others, to society, what will get you that big-ass screen TV you've been lusting after.
But if you do what you love, even if you fuck up and don't come close to what you pictured, you'll be doing what you love. You wont be failing in a cubicle, living the life you thought would make you successful or happy or rich or whatever it is that motivates you.

What is the worst that could possibly happen if you dare to be what you want, do what you want, wear what you want? Well, someone could kill you. But that's the point. From the moment you are born you are going to die. You are going to die anyways, so who gives a shit if people don't like you or what you do because one day, you'll all be dead! I know that sounds horrifyingly... emo, I guess, though I hate that subculture, but look at it in not the way of dying, but of living. At least you LIVED while you were ALIVE.

Anyway, as I often point out, I realize how much more people have experienced than I have. And I dont mean in a watching a sunset come up kind of way. I'm talking about gritty things like tripping on LSD, orgies, committing a real crime such as stealing a car. You get the general idea.
After thinking about this for no more than 30 seconds it also struck me that for while these things can make you a broader, more interesting person, they mean precisely dick when it comes to a persons worth. It simply means we are all different. And so I go back to how different people can affect each other.
There are only two kinds of romance in this world. One of a (yes, I'm going to say it) chemical kind which involves 'elegantly wasted youths' and stories to tell at parties, in other words, this romance is more of the act of such, 'making love', not being in love. 
The other kind is of such purity that the word 'romance' doesnt even occur to the people involved. They just know they care for one another and that's that. This kind of love (I'm not going to call it romance anymore) is the kind that moves people to write books, wage wars, create masterpieces, triumph in the worst of situations, and tolerate the worst of judgements, just for the hope of that feeling of pure undying love.

I pause to give you a line that somehow gets the point across to you better.
"You are everything I want, cause you are everything I'm not"

It's that kind of crazy shit that comes of love. Love is good, evil, pathetic, depressing, ordinary, extraordinary, etc, and all a mystery to me, and I don't care if it stays that way.

Have you ever felt a bit better about yourself because something you said made someone you think highly of laugh? It's that love shit again. Even if this love is more of a brother/sister type admiration and not so much undying care and loyalty, it still counts as love. I love all my friends. When they are happy, I am happy. Yes, I am that cliche, I just try not to notice, you should too.

Eventually I get to what I want to say. And it's this: These last three years, I've been living my life completely. I've been unafraid (though completely terrified) to be who I am. It's the most wonderful feeling of being alive. I've felt like I've been punched in the stomach on occassion and also like I could reach up and pluck a star from the sky. I've made some good, some bad, and some weird and ridiculous decisions. I've lay in bed all day for nothing more than to think. I've walked down the street at a ridiculous hour, soakig wet, laugh-crying, carrying a potted plant. I've broken the law, I've watched shitty movies and thrown up in Chili's. I've met some of the most amazing people I've ever met, but also some of the most dissapointing. I've been really quite cold and awkward when things weren't going my way. I've fucked up the simplest tasks, gotten lost in my own head, had no care in the world, felt like the world was stepping on my head in cleats. I've given too much thought to the most insignificant of things and felt the biggest fool in the world because of it. I've done my best.

I suppose im just explaining myself for making everything hard and long winded at the end. It's difficult to give up what you know, what you've been conditioned to be, and to feel so alive.

Right, I best wrap it up. My final message to you all, or you few who chose to read this far is this:
Savour your moments, as you never know when it will be your last. If you have a person you love, cherish them. Dont think that you're inferior because you haven't experienced certain things, just hold onto the ones you have, and take them with you.
You will meet an endless variety of people in your life, you will most likely dissapoint them all to no avail, but never, ever, ever forget:
You only get one shot at this, so take everything it gives you, dont shut anything out. You dont have to take the bad stuff with a smile, because no-one ever will, but all of it is what makes you, not just the good. So you might as well get on with it.

Im not saying you should be happy with what you've got or any feel good shit like that. Just keep your head up and live your life before it's over.
That's all. End rant.

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Ellie philosophises, volume 1.

Sep. 6th, 2008 | 07:41 pm
Music: "This Time Tomorrow" - The Kinks

I was sitting here organizing my binders for school tomorrow (Monday now because of that stupid hurricane that finally decided to do something) and I remembered my English class. We're writing paragraphs on pieces of art and photography that get passed out. It's really interesting to hear what some of the other people in the class think or feel about the piece because sometimes it's completely different from what you came up with and it really gets you thinking.
It got me thinking that the saying 'art imitates life' is completely true and there is no way to create art that does not imitate life, because in a way anything you come up with imitates what you know. You cannot know what you do not know, what does not exist. Even unrealistic ideas still imitate life because you have based it off of an original idea that you have observed during your lifetime.
For example, if you were to draw something mystical or slightly sci-fi.
Picture in your head a fantastical beast never before seen to mankind. This means no dragons faeries griffins etc.
Does it have eyes? Does it breathe? Does it do anything?
If the answer to any of those is YES then you are still imitating life, because all of these features are based on characteristics that living things have.
Even if you draw a plain circle with feathers, that circle is a circle, and feathers are still feathers. It is still imitating life.
Another example is an abstract piece of art, because if you are rightbrained like myself and will think of sayings and quates as personal challenges, you are already trying to overcome 'art imitates life' and the boundaries it represents, and you have probably come to the conclusion that abstract is the only possible explaination because it has no discernable characteristics of life, it is just art.
But once you really think about it, abstract is just as much based on life as any other piece of art would be. All paintings have feelings, emotions that are portrayed. Even if you left the canvas white it would portray sterility or peace, possibly even make the viewer uncomfortable (that's what alot of white does to me). This is because COLOR - or lack thereof - is also a part of life. It is science, it is emotion, it is propaganda, it is discrimination, it is ROYGBIV, it is that notebook from the class you failed, it is everything. Even plain black and white portrays emotion or shows something.
I cannot think of a piece of art that does not mean something or portray a certain emotion to a person. If it qualifies such, it is not art.
Art is MEANT to mean something, even abstract is meant to MEAN something, whether to the person seeing it, or the artist.
Which leads me to believe that art has laws that are always true and can never be proved untrue, and 'art imitates life' is likely to be the first and foremost.
It's like the laws of physics but more aesthetically pleasing.

Comment this in CAPITAL LETTERS if you find some loophole.

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Sep. 3rd, 2008 | 09:01 pm

So, since I think it's courteous to share both sides of the story;
What you'll hear:
I'm out of my mind. I draw too much. I listen to my music too loud. I'm a vegetarian, and that's stupid. Wanting peace is for hippie losers. I'm too nerdy. Helping others makes me a goody-good. I have wierd hair. My shoes are dumb. My jeans are too tight. I wear too much eye makeup. I watch too much sci-fi. I listen to too much horrible indie music. My last name is a religion (it's not). My friends are the wierd kids. Kids my age shouldn't be fomulating opinions. I sleep too late. I'll never have a decent job because all I do is write music and I'll never earn a living doing that. If I dye my hair I will look like a whore. I need to stop leaving towels on the floor. I'll never be able to support a family. I'll never contribute to society. I need to wear sunglasses or I'll go blind. I need to pick a clique and stick. I'm a horrible friend. I make too many inside jokes. I'm never quiet in the movie theatre. If I'm not careful I could fall and die. Nobody likes me. I'm far too loud. Your day will always be more awesome than mine. I'm an angry, depressed individual. I'm far too careless, and much too sarcastic. I have a sick sense of humor. Everyone thinks I'm a freak.
What I'll say:
I don't know who I am, and truthfully I don't care if I ever do. Whoever I am, I don't plan on changing any time soon. I am a freak, but I don't mind at all. I don't care if you like me or not, if you don't, it's your fucking loss.

This is my old myspace about me.
I put too much of myself into it & I couldn't bring myself to delete it permanently from existance.

I also want to apologize to whoever cares for not posting for an eternity & a half.
Sorry. I moved again. :(

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If you're out of barbed wire, I'll have peanuts.

Jun. 15th, 2008 | 07:36 pm
Music: "Bree Bree" - BC13

It's been raining practically all day. Not the polite, sprinkling kind of rain, either, but the kind that comes down sideways and goes down the gutter like a waterfall. It was coming down so hard that it popped a pool floatie.
When you look out the window from inside the house, it looks like it should be freezing cold outside, because the sky is this bleak gray color, and all the trees have water falling from them, and the water is just collecting in puddles everywhere, and on the screen like icicles. But when you open the door, you get hit by this massive wave of heat. Except it's not really that hot, it's just humid, and the air is sticky and hard to breathe. It's like the fucking rainforest from Jurrasic Park, and you'd think a pterodactyl was about to swoop down out of the sky and swallow you whole, despite the fact that you taste like tofu & eucalyptus lotion.

Despite the fact that it was raining like mad, and it barely went thirty seconds without a big boom of thunder, there were still idiots out golfing. Because it's father's day, and that's what everyone does; they golf, even in a torrential fucking downpour. I sat outside for about two hours while reading, and it was really calming, because of the rain, until some retarded golfer would try to take a shortcut over the trees in my backyard every once in a while.
I got the book at Vintage View this morning, because they were open and it was raining like shit. I also founf these really awesome red sunglasses that are far too big for my face, but I liek them anyways. The book I got was Dry by Augusten Burroughs, the guy that wrote Running With Scissors. It's a really amazing book, because it's so personal, and it's a memoir about his life, not just about some random character. I devoured the damn thing in 2 hours. It's about how went to rehab for alcoholism, had his best friend die of AIDS, and then fell in love with this crackhead guy named Foster, who is actually a pretty cool character. I love reading books that have absolutely nothing to do with my life, but you can still tell that they are important to the person who wrote it. I absolutely love how Augusten writes & I really recommend the book to practically anyone, except for sheltered homophobic children who like books with no plotline.
And who doesn't like a book with a quote like 'The zebras fuck'?

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Yes, I know I am a horrible, horrible person that needs to get hit by a bus.

Jun. 13th, 2008 | 05:43 pm
Music: "In the Aeroplane Over the Sea" - Neutral Milk Hotel

I hate it when people that once claimed to be my best friends competely turn on me and stab me in the back and make me feel like utter, useless shit just because they made one or two new friends and now they think they are better than everyone else and can step all over me.
I hate it when people become so involved in drugs that they seem to find nothing else worth discussing besides how many pills they have popped and how many bowls they have smoked. I don't want to hear about your idiocy, so spare me, please.
I hate it when everything I say gets challenged, ignored, or turned inside out and thrown back at me like I have no fucking brain. Get real, you're the one who thinks that cars sputter just because it rains.
I hate it when people completely change themselves to please others. It's the most sickening thing in the world, except for maybe 3 week old rotting cats. I'm sorry, but if your backbone is so weak that you collapse under status quos and cliches, then you need to take a good long look at who you are on the inside. If you don't know who that is anymore, then maybe you should go live in Papau New Guinea or something so I don't have to look at you anymore.
I hate it when people think their opinions are facts. Really, your opinion doesn't matter. I've learned that the hard way, so you should just stop trying to get people to listen to you unless you have a huge ass roll of benjamin's in your pocket. Which I hate, by the way. Stop spewing your grey matter like it's the gospel truth.
I hate that someone can take one look at me and classify me, or decide they don't like me, just based on what I'm wearing, and a few seconds of hearing what I have to say. Honestly, I don't even know what the fuck I am, so you shouldn't either. I'm just me.
I hate how blind we are to what's actually happening. I noticed that the whole world stops when some fatass sports announcer guy kicks the bucket, but the fact that a child dies every 2.3 seconds totally doesn't matter at all.

Hell, I probably hate you.


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Eat your fucking salad.

Jun. 13th, 2008 | 05:42 pm

I hope you choke on a crouton. 


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Jun. 6th, 2008 | 02:14 pm
Music: "Secret" - The Pierces

Is there anyone else out there who still holds a beacon of intelligence?
I feel like cloning myself just to have decent conversation that does not turn to drugs, myspace, the size of genitalia, or what 'she' said. Just once before I leave this Earth, please, allow me to finish my sentance before you blurt out that 'she' said it.

Oh and another thing: You're rude. Yes you. You know who you are. You rude little person you.

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May. 23rd, 2008 | 05:32 pm
Music: "Black Dirt" - Sea Wolf

It turns out I have Recurrent Breif Depression.

Here's my latest mindsnap:

I refuse to let myself be defined by my surroundings.
I refuse to let myself be defined by my surroundings.
I refuse to let myself be defined by my surroundings.
I refuse to let myself be defined by my surroundings.
I refuse to let myself be defined by my surroundings.

Conformity isn't something you're born with. Neither is violence. Neither is carelessness. You have to learn them.
Unfortunately the same logic applies to selflessness and love. If people learned to put see things from someone else's perspective before they act on impulse, it wouldn't be a problem.

As a whole, society is in the shithole, big time.

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Blue moon lovers; are the best kind of lovers; they don't come but once in a while.

May. 15th, 2008 | 05:36 pm
Music: "Heavy Metal Drummer" - Wilco

I'm really bored right now. I have the house all to myself tonight, no homework, no battery in my cell phone, and I already painted my nails this week.
I suppose I could watch The Producers for the fifteen-thousandth time. Or I could go streaking. I've always wanted to try that. Especially in this neighborhood, because it's mostly retired old people and golf course buffs. Then again, my neighbors all have lifealert.
How funny would it be to work at lifealert and get a beep, and the old man is screaming "THERE IS A NAKED GIRL RUNNING DOWN MY STREET!"
The guy at LifeAlert would probably be like "What the fuck is wrong with you. Enjoy it" or something along those lines.

God that was random.

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Let's play catch up.

May. 15th, 2008 | 04:29 pm
Music: "Three Wishes" - The Pierces

These are some photographs I took at Youth Force '08.
For those who don't know what youth force is, it's basically a not-for-profit charity even taking place in the Clermont-Groveland area. Alot of the churches in the area have their youth groups get together, and we go out in the community and rebuild houses (think Extreme Home Makeover) and do community service, go to nursing homes, etc.
Those were great times.
1) This picture is of Chris & Kelsey the first night we were there. It was pitch black out & I popped out of nowhere and set off the flash in their faces :)
2) This one is of some of us sitting iin the hallway outside Late Night Live the first night they had it.
3) This is us taking a picture of Jason Harwell & Jonathan Rich taking a picture of us... ( I think that's right )
4) Jessi blowing bubbles on the bus home from Lake Louisa.
5) Chris Carlberg & I being retarded.
6) After we saw this, we were like "YES!!! Let's go to McDonalds" because we had been working on the lantana hellshrub project thingy in the hot sun for five hours.
7) Madeline getting a bubble.
8) Chris eating nachos and being... Chris.
9) Arriving at the site at Lake Louisa. Before.

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