114.

Lyrics that explain my life:

Pardon Me He is We Lyrics.

Pardon me for my lack of excitement,
But I’m not entirely thrilled.
Stutter when I talk,
Flail around as I walk,
Yeah the moment’s been killed.

And I’m not good at this no, not all.
I’m not good at this.

I’m a wreck and I know it,
And I tend to show it every chance that I get.
Butterflies in the skies, they just fly on by.
Yeah they’re making me sick.
They don’t flutter about, I’d do without.
All they do is kick.

Mean it truly,
Sincere heart.
Why do you do this to me?
Tear me apart.

It’s my fault and I know it,
And I tend to blow it, no thanks to you.
Its like you sit and you watch me,
You poke and you taunt me, it’s all that you do.
And I’m not fighting that no, not at all.
Just want to be something, a name you call.
The lips you taste just to fall, madly in love.

Mean it truly,
Sincere heart.
Why do you do this to me?
Tear me apart.

I got my eyes set on you,
My heart is burning red.
All of my words come out wrong,
Run circles in my head.
You had me and I melted,
In the palm of your hand.
You know it yes I felt it,
You’ll never understand.

Mean it truly,
Sincere heart.
Why do you do this to me?
Tear me apart.

Mean it truly,
Sincere heart.
Why do you do this to me?
Tear me apart.

And my nails are painted like watermelons, so that's cool. Now i have to study and get my life together!

Happy Midterms, V.

P.S. Dream gods, thanks for the best dream ever last night! If only that could happen in real life... <3

112

What I wouldn't give to look like this: fabulous and elegant and refined and beautiful of the most acute kind:



An Education: of the world, of so many things begins with a book or a movie, and mine has begun here: in England, in the 60s in the glitz and glamour of a naive school girl who plays the cello and a suave playboy who has a secret life on the quiet suburban streets. I feel a parallel to Jenny: in university exciting the fear outside of my mind: aspiring to inspire others, through my writing and my teaching. I'm weary of the world, and of love--there's no doubt that i've been jilted and jaded in that department *coughcoughmyurl.* But honestly, I'm looking for so much excitement, bouncing back and forth between the academic and the luxurious and the fanciful, and the enriching, and i'm losing my ground quite quickly. I've been losing myself in all this bustle: I mean I act like myself and all my eccentric habits and wild fantasies, but the writer in me, the muse, the inspiration, the want of connection to another has rendered me somewhat alone to trek this delicate and fairly dangerous path: the one that Jenny had walked. And I admit, I take in most of the same pleasures that she does here at McGill: but alright, I admit I'm not as classily dressed and made up, but "I feel old, but not wise"

But i'm learning, and i'm getting there.

But can we please oogle some more over how beautiful Rosamund and Carrie look in this movie. My god, they are pleasing to look at, I would spend all my stolen money on them too. And kudos to Carrie's new role in The Great Gatsby opposite Leo, I'm sure that will be amazing, and i'll get to oogle over her some more <3

Oogiling and finding my feet, V.

111: valentines day

add another 1, and it makes it a wish come true: how about i make that one you.

There's a few things i've learned in the past two days about love, about the world, about valentine's day: about so many things that I find dear in the world, so many things i've shed tears over, so many things to feel for.

Valentine's day
is for suckers and hallmark: that's what they always say
but it's a break from the norm, where love is celebrated
and created
and desecrated,
(but we don't pay much attention to that sort)
we're more in it for the sport.
Of touching,
of feeling,
and nerves, and games,
and whispering names
in the dark of the night
and roses,
and glimmering light.
let's face it: Darcy's not in my field either
so wine and dine, and feel oh so fine
with love of the plutonic kind,
because the day didn't specify romantic,
it just has us buying chocolate
loathing is a self-affliction
of the lonely hearted,
but hey! you have a cat
or a friend
a mom
or a neighbor:
Valentine's day doesn't have to be gooey
it can just be half baked.

So yes, this is a Valentine's Day post: so I might have someone worth pining for; but all that i like to have is a glimmer of opportunity, of hope that maybe this time next year, someone will have their arms around me, as i write poetry and listen to rain and drink tea and listen to the pride and prejudice soundtrack: but for now i'm content on doing such things alone: with my friends, my cookie recipes, and maybe my cat (if i had one..... next year i will) because we all know how tactile things can get after a bottle of wine, eh?

Here's some gooey pictures for your enjoyment!

109.

I feel like this explains my life, or what i would sing to my significant other in my home town, if i wasn't a freak incapable of attaining one.


Sweet pea: Amos Lee


Sweet pea
Apple of my eye
Don't know when and I don't know why
You're the only reason I keep on coming home

Sweet pea
What's all this about
Don't get your way all you do is fuss and pout
You're the only reason I keep on coming home

I like the Rock of Gibraltar
I always seem to falter
And the words just get in the way
Oh I know I'm gonna crumble
I'm trying to stay humble
But I never think before I say

Sweet pea
Keeper of my soul
I know sometimes I'm out of control
You're the only reason I keep on coming
You're the only reason I keep on coming yeah
You're the only reason I keep on coming home.


Because i need love to keep bringing me home, because I know there's nothing else holding me here.
And I want it to find me, even though i'm sort of over looking for it, and looking to do me this semester. Good Grades, No social life, a hot bod, and a healthy appetite for creativity.
-V.


PICHA TIME BROSKIS.

108.

I laugh, my holidays completely had

tangled in sheets, of my own. Alone.

And it's been happy, in a dreamlike state,

without worrying about academics in the semester's wake.

I saw my parents, overcame a flu,

I realized that it's not going to happen, this thing between me and you.

I've rebuilt the bridges, the ones burnt long ago.

And somehow this is miniscule compared to the current lack of snow.

The holidays are passing, like my last day spent at home,

with literally heaps of mess to clean up, before I go abroad.

I can't think of what to do, or where to start, or who to call

or what to say:

to loves of past days

with those i've crossed ways

.... How to exit this daze,

and back into my new life.

-V.

And now for some amusing and cute pictures (from IMG FAVE)

107.

Truth be told, i'm scared. about so many things, they creep up on me in moments of classical music, pattering legs on bare skin while beauty rushes around my head in waves. I'm scared of so many things: It's hard to place exactly, but in this midst I see my future, I see my past, I see that everything around me is changing while I stay the same. I see that I have different friends, different habits, that i'm in a different place, that i have a fabulous, but different life now. The same person in a different life sounds ironic and funny at the same time. Doesn't make sense, much like the situation I'm in right now.

I try to articulate how i'm feeling, and I've learned that I'm pretty good at articulating my feelings but this tongue is thick, and these fingers are weary and all i'm coming up with is this:

Snow whistles around me,

a blind fit of flakes:

swirling, blinding, building, cascading

spinning and whirling,

which direction is straight?

which is foreword, which is home?

I don't know the path or the road, so i laugh.

Blanketed in a beautiful new face,

lost and found in this new place.

I know where I stand,

clad in mittens and scarf and coat

notes from a piano lift from the snow on which I dote.

I remember, laughing

it leads me, behind and through

until my fingers are raw,

and i've lost my senses, i've lost it all.

I remember them wrapped around mugs of past days

where friends were wrapped in gray and they were laughing,

sounds tumbling like the white flakes of snow

landing in my mouth, open, laughing.

104

This is my first phone post...  more to come bitches ;)