toughen up little soldier

the veins and pancreas of pop-culture

9.17.2010

ceci n'est pas un blog

J'ai toujours aimer avoir une deuxieme langue. Mais je n'es jamais vu l'importance ou quoi qui est speciale de la francais. Plusiers choses m'a changer l'attitude vers la langue dans les derniers coupe des mois. La premiere est un film de 2009 appelé:

An Education. About a young school girl in London during the 1960's. She's completely bored with her life and her rules and dreams of France, glamour, maturity and listens to french records. She meets a much older man who whisks her off to lands of adults and exciting adventures. He takes her to France where her dreams are made reality. Carry Mulligan (so cute with fringe) is the naiive little Jenny who gets a real education, blah blah. The part that caught my attention in this independent little Oscar nominee and won my heart was modestly beautiful Jenny laying in her bedroom singing along J'ai Deux Amours, which is in fact a foreshadow  in the movie's plot.  Actually, the entire soundtrack is to die for. Not to mention 'You've got me wrapped around your little finger'.







9.12.2010

Senority Kicks in, Sooner of Later

As a kick off to my final year of sufferage(defined as high school life and not the injustices of women's rights) I invited a few close friends to party hardy in my garage on Friday evening.  My night was spent on endless crowd control and although I tried to keep the peace, names were called and feelings were damaged and it seems like we never learn. After four long years cohorting with each other and suposedly learning how to be proper adults and live in reality, we still can't seem to grasp basic skills of human decency. I may not be the best at math and science but I like to think that beneath my dont-fuck-with-me glares, I am a nice person. I also like to think that this is something I learned from experience because believe it or not, becoming a good person is something that you must develope, through experience, years of not getting invited to the cool parties.

The schools will always be filled with geeks and freaks and dicks and pricks but when it comes to loving thy neighbor and expressing a smidge of self respect and individuality, where is thy line drawnith? I'm talking about the line between so-called pretentious vinyl loving, acrylic painting behavior and hoop-shooting deadpan prepratory bores. Is standing on that line the only way to balance yourself and be a really 'good person'? That seems so difficult.

If this post seems super confusing it's mostly because the 9 months that are left of high school are looming ahead of me and the gradu-waiting is making me a bit crazy. I'm also a bit scatterbrained in the morning. We're probably not on the same page, or maybe we are.
A wise kid once told me that two people can never ever be completely in sync with each other, except during sex. Well that makes good sense to me. Although it seems like nobody is having sex anymore. Everyone's just smoking pot.



On things learned in high school, Tavi Gevinson say's it best:

-Some boys reach a certain age in which they are convinced they invented anarchy, poor hygiene, and Kurt Cobain.
...And I have reached the age in which I am too often under the incorrect impression that I am wise enough to make that kind of observation.
-If you, as a short person, want to get anywhere in the halls, you must push and shove. PUSH AND SHOVE.
-It's great when you don't want to see someone, and they don't want to see you, so you can ignore one another in the halls on a mutual basis.

9.03.2010

knee deep in a river of pussy

I want to share this. I didn't write but I sure as fuck wish I did. If only we could all be this raw and new. These words are savorable so savor them.

      "Rome is burning," he said as he poured himself another drink. "Yet here I am, knee deep in a river of pussy."
      Here it comes, she thought, another self indulgent whiskey soaked story about how fucking great everything was in the past. And how all us pour souls born too late to see the stones play at wherever or snort the good coke like they had at studio 54, well, we'd all just missed out on practically everything worth living for. And the worst part was, she agreed with him.
        Here we are, she thought. At the edge of the world, the very edge of Western civilization and all of us are so desperate to feel something, anything, that we keep falling into each other and fucking our way towards the end of days.