I love clothes.

This is fact.

I hate being force fed fashion though. I want to wear what I want to wear, regardless of whether or not it is “in style.” I went to the mall recently, and I was disgusted by the fashions being displayed. They were played out and down right ugly, not to mention overly priced.

I am a pretty big fan of thrift stores and vintage shops. You can create unique and fantastic outfits from the things you can find from the past~

Examples:

The cardigan and the belt are from Goodwill. The paintings are mine . This was before I lost some weight, so my legs look big.

I found the shirt and belt at Salvation Army, and the pants at a random store for ten dollars. This photo was from two hours ago. Compare leg size... if you want.

Vintage high waisted skirt from Etsy, belt from Goodwill. More of my art in the back .

The vintage sweater is from Etsy. I took the beads off of it though since this picture. I also lost weight.

So yes, these are some outfits I’ve made (I’ve made many others) out of thrift and vintage finds. I infinitely prefer the wide variety found in thrift shops to the forced generic fashions found in mall stores. And besides, a lot of second hand shops donate their profits to good causes.

I’m tired of writing this post now though. Goodnight.

I’m tired

of miscommunication. I’m tired of your condescension. I’m tired of that tone you assume whenever you disagree. I’m sick of you thinking I don’t understand. Your presumptions about what I mean or how I perceive what you say are exhausting. It’s getting to the point where I’m afraid to express anything negative that I feel about this connection because I know you’ll tear it to pieces defending yourself. I’m not attacking you, though.

I remember everything when it was brand new. You’ve lost that sensitivity that I need. I’m so fragile. You of all people should know this, but lately you’ve handled me like a puppy handles a chew toy. All of this tugging is destroying me.

I need you. I feel like everything that happens is my fault, always.

freethought.

do you remember me in our days of naivete? weak in the knees, we spoke through harlequin lips and shot sparks out of our finger tips. in the depths of a dissolved valley we caught fire, and oh how we burned, how we turned the earth black, how we discovered that there is no turning back. withering petals cascaded in the biggest blaze ever created {bourne from our tongues, a slithering lie} as our consciousness faded into a lust filled passion {dancing in the rye}. broken and bruised, alive and abused, we awoke to destroyed innocence and we spoke of the remaining flowering quince. its symbols, its spines, its blossoming rhymes; foreshadowing the beauty in our painfully fragile times emerging from this cataclysmic mistake.

do you remember me? i persuaded you to deconstruct the world.

despondency.

it’s kicking in.
i keep finding myself
in the strangest of places
it’s funny how our faces
keep changing- it’s 6 am
and we’re tangled indefinitely

where’s the exit?

these vague sentiments
and other boys,
other noises drown them out:
your staggering breath
when you’re feeling doubt.

it’s around to stay
i keep hearing myself
speak the strangest of truths
i could wrap myself around you
for a century-it’s 4 pm

where are your hands?

the secrets we share
fill my heart
with a love so new to me:
i never spoke the truth before
i met the real you and i can see

there is no need to beg you to stay.

Relationships.

I’m always, always, always the sacrificial one.

It’s not healthy.

Good news, although I never posted the bad news. My glasses are found after two weeks of non-existence. This should greatly increase my general mood, because I’ll be able to see things and won’t get awful headaches from all the blurs.

I got my haircut. I like it. I’m too lazy to take pictures though, but I’ll get around to it.

I get to go take the MCC duel enrollment test today. I’m very glad the tech center principal got me in, because I don’t know how I would have gotten to Muskegon.

Next week Friday I hear about the scholarship to CCS’s precollege thing. I’m trying very hard to expect absolutely nothing. I’ve found that hope often leads to disappointment (and horrible spiraling nihilism). These are things that don’t sit well with me and my hatred of sitting.

Only four more days of meds.

I need to clean my room, get around to making something, and stop eating so much chocolate.