Dreaming.

I had a weird dream last night.

I was hanging out with a boy I used to have feelings for. We were driving around in his truck and he was telling me how he had just gotten out of rehab for being addicted to some sort of prescription drug. We were driving around downtown in a bigger city and we drove by a cafe or bar that Phillip Seymour Hoffman owned and I yelled out "Hey its Phillip Seymour Hoffman!" So we got down to go to the cafe. And Mr. Hoffman ended up liking me and the boy I was with got jealous.

Later we went back to hi house. His siblings told me they had always wanted him to be with me. I suppose they really liked me.

Somehow later in the dream we ended up staying together and then we were vampires... Yes, I know... Vampires. I don't remember how we ended up being vampires but we were in love.

Then we went back to the cafe and for some reason we were in a riot.

I don't remember everything else.

Just a weird dream.

Those Awkward Moments...

Its been a little over nine months since my brother passed away. Few people who knew him still haven't found out so those moments when I happen to bump into them and they ask about him always make for an awkward moment.

Earlier today I was walking to my car when I saw this guy I had met over a year ago in my Art History Survey I course. He knew my brother somewhat. He asked me if he was still doing the film club and I had to tell him he died. And its just an awkward moment, especially since I don't really know the guy. I wish I didn't have to tell him the unfortunate news, since it is both awkward and brings up painful thoughts.

I don't know how many more times it will happen. Its only happened once before.

I think the best dreams that I dream are the ones where Rudy comes out. Its nothing significant, but it makes it seem like he's still here.

Wow...

I got blamed for a friend breaking up with her boyfriend. WOW!

I wanted to tell that asshole off, but what good would that do. There's no chance in me bumping into him anyway so why even tell him off. It wouldn't bring me any good, just a little bit of relieved anger.

The nerve of this asshole. I didn't even want to go on that stupid trip in the end. If it had just been me and my friend, everything would have been fine. We would have had fun and enjoyed ourselves. Instead, this idiot blames me for her breaking up with him, claiming that things would have been different if I hadn't gone. WTF? What an immature asshole.

Meh, whatever. I hope his life is shit.

Where can I speak my mind without judgement...

No where. Blogger at least doesn't reach everyone.

I thought about going to Kansas City to IHOP to help my spirituality, but in truth, my relationship with God is dead... in fact, I believe I'm an atheist only pretending to believe so I could belong. But I don't belong. My friends are nowhere to be found. Seems I was only a last resort for most, but now that they've found new friends or made reconciliations with old friends, I am given the boot.

I haven't left my house since Wednesday night... going on 4 days tomorrow, but I have to go out tomorrow, not because I want to, but because I have to. I have to go work on printmaking projects that are due Tuesday.

I wish I could just leave, at least then there'd be damn good reason as to why I'm so alone...

Oh GOD! Just 9 months to go before I'm finally done with school and able to leave this hot shithole full of assholes. I'll be counting down the days. I just have to decide where to go. I'm probably leading towards the DFW area or maybe farther... like Seattle or Minneaopolis.

So what now? Just have to battle this depression and fight off thoughts of suicide enough to make it through until December. And if life is still shit after I leave, maybe I should just off myself.

Six months.

This past Monday has been six months.

Half a year already.

And I'm still wishing, hoping, and praying that you would just walk through the door like you used to.

I held that camera you gave me randomly some time ago. I liked that you always believed in my passion for photography. I miss that.

I thought about giving up photography because I feel that I'm just not all that great. But I won't because you believed in me.

---

I've completely shut myself off this past week. I just haven't felt like talking to anyone. I think the last person who wasn't family I talked to was either Liza or Alex. I just don't want to talk to anyone. I don't want to deal with anyone else's problems; I don't even want to deal with my own problems.

I don't know where I'm going, or where I will be in a year or a decade. But I'm 22. I'm getting old.

Sometimes I wish I had just had a normal teenage life. Being fat and ugly and being a right-wing conservative crazy christian just made my teenage years shit. I wonder where I would have been now.

I fucking hate my life.

---

I've decided to achieve my master's in England, or somewhere in the UK, but seriously would love London, England.

I need to get moving with photography projects.

Ropa Usada

I have a weird fascination with ropa usada. I have always wondered who they belonged to before and what their life was like. I wonder if their clothes ended up here because they died or because they were cleaning out their closet.

I want to work on a photography project incorporating ropa usada, again, except this time I want to recreate a fictional history for the particular outfit. It could be a crazy story, a fantastical story, a sad story, happy story, boring story, etc.

I need models though. I want people of all ages and sizes and looks.

If you're interested, contact me. If you really want to do this, you'll need to go downtown and dig through the clothes, find an outfit and come to me. I don't care what the outfit looks like. You and I can recreate the history behind the clothing.

I really really really really want to do this. And I want to work on it during the holiday season. Tell your friends, tell your family. Go down town together, buy used clothing.

Please, help me make this work.

I've said it many times

In the past six months, I have said that there has been way too many people dying. I don't know if its part of growing older, or its just random tragedies that have happened to be within months, even weeks of each other.

A girl I knew from my art classes at school passed away on Monday after losing the battle with cancer. Her name was Laura. We talked a few times. I thought she was very sweet, and a great artist. Its such a shame to have a lost someone so talented and amazing. I wish I had gotten to know her better. I wish she would have had more time to establish herself as an artist. I wish her family didn't have to go through what they are going through. I wish her boyfriend, who loved her deeply, wouldn't have to deal with this.

I can't comprehend the mysteries of this life, or the mysteries of God. Why some people die who are full of ambition, talent, and greatness, while others who are just wasting their time still live.

I wish I could understand. I wish I could let go of this anger and resentment. I don't know who I am anymore, or what I believe. I don't know how these tragic events can keep happening.

In my mind I'm hoping that there is some great tragedy coming up from which these people I've known are being spared from.

And even more so, I'm hoping that there is a heaven, and that God would at least be merciful to allow these people I've known entrance into heaven. I hope that the God who lives isn't the God I was told about, who punished all who didn't live like perfect saints. If there's a God, I don't think he's like what I've heard him described, and even if He is, I'll believe that He'll have mercy.