people awake at 6:02am astound me.

my goal for my future self is to re-become a morning person.

re-become? when was vanessa ever a morning person?

i can answer that. when i was 7 years old, i was a morning person. i would wake up and have breakfast with my grandparents.

thats a weird thought. i havent thought about that in a while.

you know those weird spurts of your childhood that come to you at random times? example:

- one time, i tried to make dough. i succeeded and hid the dough under the couch in my family's living room. i remembered that it was there a week later and it was growing mold. cool!

- pre computer, danielle and i would stay up at night doing NOTHING. like, absolutely nothing. calling radio stations, making food, reading the newspaper, taping songs off the radio.

- my first nail polish color that i bought was this deep blue color. straight '90s.

anyways. this is procrastination.

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i saw the arcade fire last night with don + chris and carlos.

i'm a sucker for music i can move to.



a miraculous picture: just as i took it, some dumbass tried to take a picture of the stage with flash. the flash was absorbed by don and me and the light bounceed straight into my camera. and thats the arcade fire



the lighting in this one is fantastic. or maybe i love that sweater.

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i guess this is my triumphant return to blogger. be kind.

my sister scares the shit out of me sometimes.

knocked over bureaus and yelling is what i equate my sister's mental illness with.

why do we have to walk on egg shells when we're around her? why do we have to pay attention to what we say to her? why do WE have to think twice if what we say to her is going to hurt her feelings and send her over the edge when she can say anything horrible to us with no repercussions?

this weekend, i have come to this realization that has taken 21 years for me to arrive at: danielle has never apologized for anything that she has done. ever.

1970 was the year that reared the most horrible love story, love story. it's famous catch line was "Love means never having to say you're sorry."

what. the. fuck. are you serious? are you living in the same world i'm living in? of course you have to say i'm sorry.

say you're sorry.

also: he called me defined.

meaning: i'd still know who i was if we ended up apart.

is it bizarre that i don't want to move back to la?

gah

e posible.

move.

I have been inhaling and exhaling.
Inhale, Exhale.

no waiting.

Inhale, exhale. Immediate results.

Never a shortness of breath.
even times of both sides.

Its necessary to hold your breath.
The anticipation for the next air.
The receiving of what was recently delayed.

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I love patterns.

93 degrees

Its too hot for my heart to hurt.

I've decided to start writing. I'm hoping that Los Angeles doesn't burn down. I want my home to be intact when i move back. Its harsh reality with college ending. I took my last midterm in college. It was so bizarre reading what i wrote. How the ideas that i was stringing together made sense and that the arguement that I was making could stand.

Given, the question asked what I would do if i was young czar with absolute power in the 17th century. But fuck you too.

I'm going to start capitalizing my sentences.

I left my heart at reception. The last thing I saw was you.

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The common denominator in my life: frustration; with myself, but more specifically with the people that I love.

flash!

recently, i've been having these weird ass flashes of myself in the future. pregnant. or just after giving birth. wtf dude.