"I'm an average nobody" - Henry Hill, and my heart
Native of Nowhere
May 11th, 1999 "I'd tell you more, though I'm not so keen on which particulars I'd like to canonize on a card as beautiful as this."
Meet My Austrian Love Doctor
It’s that special season when my professional Austrian Love Doctor (really just author Aldous Huxley in Lolita sunnies) pays me a visit, completely uncalled for. I Insist, says whatever dimension he crawled out of, which I’m guessing must be a blesséd place because though doc’s trade is love, he never nods his head with sham empathy; lectures on about darwinky biomechanics; or spews anything close to TaffyTherapy™ - bloated advice full of nothing but sugar and air.
This Constant Reminder
Now, before you jump to conclusions with that caption and say that a girl like me shouldn’t be in a polyamorous relationship, here’s a question that’s got nothing to do with what I’ve just said -
Bye Mom, I'm Going to Mongolia
Did you know that the everyday dichotomy of little girls is quite simple? It looks something like this - When I was 10, the deciding factor for the above coin flip came to me through a magical YouTube recommendation. It was a music video of a Mongolian folk song called "Qinghai Lake¹ by Daiqing Tana and Haya Band." At the time, I didn't know anything about the culture, apart from Genghis Khan - this man's a part of the general, ingrained knowledge we're all born with, right?
Bright Cellars Wine & Holiday Cupcakes
Happy 10 days 'till Christmas, guys! If you're anything like me, this month has been slipping quicker than I or my craft countdown chain could've predicted -
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, and Tomorrow
“Tomorrow, Tomorrow, and Tomorrow” is an essay written by Aldous Huxley, and it can be found in his book called Tomorrow, Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, which can be purchased here, here, and here.
The Palms' Panorama
Head forward. Now do a 360°. Unless possessed, you’re better off using your feet, not neck. But whether or not you’re of this earth, do your spin slow. Don’t think about it, your eyes can move on their own…
I’m not sure what it is about these cusp birthdays (i.e. 18, 20, 21) that suggests one ought to have felt a light turn on inside. I’m referring to some switch that would flood the mind with clarity, the kind that washed away all overchewed adolescent anxieties. This craving for a clear conscience blooms out of a confused one - one that’s not sure who to listen to anymore. All a person is left to do then, is to turn to himself, only to realize that his own voice is just an echo of all the souls that proceeded: school and its knowledge, adults and their dogmas, the poets and their rom-antics.