Monday, July 18, 2011

?

I don't know how to exist anywhere besides the Art world. And if they don't want me, then what?

Friday, July 15, 2011

Hipster sex.

Sometime ago, I found myself being forced into trying bondage with this guy whose name escapes me at the moment. He was one of those hipster guys with skinny jeans and a octopus tattoo across his breastplate, and asked me over an Irish coffee if I wanted to be tied up. Raising one eyebrow, although in my head I really just uncrossed my legs, I shrugged and said, 'Why not?" Back at his place, just under an hour later, he used my fishnets to tie my hands to his headboard and then proceeded to give me the worst sex of my life. It wasn't the bondage, if anything, he tied the stockings too loose. I think it was the incessant moaning and asking me, "Does that feel good?"
Does that feel good? I rolled my eyes over and over and felt the Irish coffee sloshing around in my belly. I looked over to his bedside table, knowing that in the tiny drawer he stored his rolling papers and small amount of weed. That would feel good. I knew that as soon as he came, he'd want to roll and share one and make me listen to fucking underground band that no one knows about. So I quickly faked an orgasm and waited the 2 minutes until he came. When he went to the bathroom to clean up afterwards, I stole his weed and slithered out of there. The point of this story is that hipsters suck at trying new things and sex.

Thursday, July 7, 2011

I am amazed.

- At how many people are educators, or call themselves educated people, yet they can't spell the simplest of words.

- How people who have known me for years still write my name like, "Elise" instead of the correct, 'Elyse". From now on, I am going to purposefully misspell your names. It makes me feel like you don't take me seriously enough to learn my name, or that all this time, I've been associating with a retard.

- How mediocre some people are.

- At how a left hand turn completely terrifies people.

- When a drive-thru line is longer than 5 cars, and people still refuse to get out of the fucking car and just 'go in'.

- That some of the most devout Christian's I know are also some of the most petty, egotistical, back-handed, and ugly people I know.

- You are able to call yourself a friend to someone when you basically used them for a year.

- How much I'm going to miss Leanne when I move to Seattle. It's tearing me apart.

- How much I still miss New England - but mostly the seasons and landscape, not really the memories.

- That weed is still illegal, but alcohol is not.

- At how much I don't care about the Casey Anthony trial.

- Or any trial unless I'm in it, or it effects my civil rights.

- How some people think they can lead a revolution, but never leave their bedroom.

- How some people don't realize that one day, they will be alone. So they better start learning how to take care of themselves.

- How you really don't think anyone suspects that you're in love and/or mind-fucking your brother.

- That you aren't willing to get healthy.

- That you make promises but you sure as hell never keep them.

- That some days my opinion matter s to you, and other days, it's not even acknowledged.

- That you think you're smarter than me. Just because you can do a math problem doesn't mean you are. It means you can follow directions. I suggest you join the Marines, they love people who follow directions.

- How I never trusted you.

- How badly I still miss my father, that I cry once a week when no one is around.

- At how badly I hurt you.

- At how much you've changed for the better since I've hurt you, and how proud I am of you. And jealous.

- How delusional you are about yourself.

- At how you should really stop wearing heels, you look like a water buffalo who was given two legs by Ursula - but you don't know how to walk with them.

- At how you can actually call yourself a witch. It disgusts me.

- How you can call yourself anything but a liar. I've never seen your real personality, style, or sense of humor - because they don't exist.

- At how much I love my dog Taco.

- At how much I hate salad.

- At how much I love music and theater, but that I don't care if I ever get paid for doing either one.

- At how much I want to be an artist - and not really anything else.

- At how much I don't want children, or really like any of them.

- At how people use the term 'simple-minded' when they really mean, 'close-minded'.

- At how I never get tired of fountain diet cokes.

- At how often I youtube 'Are You Afraid Of The Dark?"

- At how scared I am to start over - AGAIN.

- At how bad I never, ever want to work in a shopping Mall.

- At how much I hate having a boss at all.

- At how often I say, 'Fuck You.'

Sunday, July 3, 2011

Artist's Plea

We are the Artists.
The eternally young, perpetually angry, constantly looking, beautiful, honest, courageous - artists.
....For many years, we've made this world beautiful.
Laying color on top of your concrete,
Blooms on top of your foundation,
Shine on top of your skyscrapers.
....But we'd like a chance now.
We want your deafness to repair itself.
....We know what we're headed for, and what is heading for us.

....Give us ONE day, world.
Where you let us drive.
The planet is thirsty,
...sick,
.... scared,
...plain,
...uniformed,
........Dying.
We have the tincture,
the remedy,
...the cure.
It is thick laughter, sarcasm, sex, color.
It's profanity, pushing children out of the way, shielding the world from pain,
...But not honesty.
.....Not all do-gooders are soft people.
For a long time, we have tried to open your eyes, minds, souls, bodies, and heart to change.
For forever, it seems, we have ran across endless numbers of you, refusing to do so.
Despite your adverse reactions to some of us, despite the pain you've caused those unlike yourselves,
Regardless of the shame you've made us feel, the outcasts you've made of us,
...We still love you,
...We still hope you'll join us,
....We still hope that you will listen.
By pushing us away, you pushed into the darkest corners of ourselves.
Shuddering from the cold you made us feel, we look up, and saw our demons in the darkness.
They held out their hands for us, offering wisdom and courage.
Some of us took it.
..... You people like to fight your demons, and kill them.
As artists, we know they're with us for life. Parts of ourselves.
...We work with them.
They keep us mighty, they keep us smart, they keep us awake from the terrible, monotonous sleep some of you dwell in.
...In this darkness, dancing with these demons - we've grown stronger.
In our bodies, our souls, our brains, and our hearts.
...Those with the greatest capacity for hate, also have the greatest capacity for love.
...Not all those with weapons seek to harm.

For many years, you've driven the ship.
Creating monuments, markers, and technology.
You've built our world faster, stronger, heavier.
In our sleep, in our dreams, we artists feel her weight.
We feel her tremble with fear of herself, we feel the gasses growing hotter,
The air growing sour, and the silent screams she gives out.
....They're nearly whimpers.
...We're not saying that the world needs a 'reset' button.
...But, we're asking for ONE day, ONE chance to prove ourselves to you.
To kneel before OUR god, maybe even YOUR god, and say, 'We're Ready."
To say, "Trust Us."
And you respond with, "Okay."
...Believe in us, even though we're unlike you.
...Don't insult those who are different than you.
Who may be slower, or faster, or weaker, or stronger.
Because then, you are more alone than you ever have been.
...Let us save you, ourselves.
...Let us learn the right way.
...We're running out of time.
even if you don't know it,
...You're always running out of time.