fuck this bourgeois lifeztauhl.

All i want is heaps and heaps of money to travel and buy clothing and essential shit. I have a list of things that I am craving overwhelmingly intensely from urbanoutfitters.com

OH MY SHE IS SO GENERIC. they have some nice things there, okay? so suck it, you pretentious hipster fuckz. i cant buy at thrift shops because I live in puerto rico, and unless i want an oversized black t-shirt with Daddy Yankee's face on it in rhinestones, then I stay away from them

My cart only has five things in it, that I have deemed urgent because either I need them now, or am scared that they will be out of stock in less than a week. My wishlist is another story. It has the loveliest of things that I can buy only in my dreamz. I just wait until they put them on sale, porque no tengo otro remedio. The items in my cart are the following:

• These suhweet mary janes, that when put on, this song will ring in the distance.
• This dress that will make me look hawt around dem boyz. no, really, i dig bare backs. i wanted it in black but it was out of stock.
• Tights like these that will make me feel classy and floral. I've been hunting floral tights down for the longest time.
  
• I live on a tropical island, in front of the beach. Why do I not have sandles? Well, i found ones that were pretty nice. Not WOONDERFUL, but decent and pretty and efficient, i reckon. Here they are.
• Finally, this dress. Simply for its minimalistic charm. and the fact that i may look model-flat innit.

The total is 151$, including shipping. If I buy it today I get an added 10% off. I must beg my mother, and probably pay for half. There goes lunch in Paris for a week, see if I care.

flattening the globe

A friend of mine suggested that I watch the trailer for this film, which runs along the lines of and Paris, Je T'aime and New York, I Love You. (But only three directors, instead of 10, or something of the sort) He sent me the trailer, and I was dazzled, to not pick a better word. Besides the fact that Michel Gondry is directing a segment, and I simply adore him ever since I sat in the cinema with my father and watched La Science des rêves, the director Leos Carax's last name is the last name of one of my favourite characters of all time from the book 'La Sombra del Viento' by Carlos Ruiz Zafón. Well, essentially, I've seen the trailer, imdb'ed it multiple times, and now all i'm missing it to watch the actual film. I highly doubt they're bringing it to Puerto Rico, in which case I'll probably just end up buying through Amazon or something when it comes out.
Here's the trailer, so all of you can crave it as well.

Do not trust the horse, Trojans!

arthur tress is provocative and just brilliant. i love the man. and all the man-parts that come up (no pun intended, please) in his photographs. i have been non-stop staring at art/fashun photography for the past several days. Besides, of course, brief intervals of stuffing my face and talking about what madison and I would do if we saw the cast of Harry Potter on a plane.

To quench your curiosity, we would go through lines like
"HARRY, WHY ARE YOU TRAVELING COACH WHEN YOU COULD BE TRAVELING NIMBUS 3000?!"
or any other sort of obnoxious question you could think of.

"How sad it is! I shall grow old, and horrid, and dreadful. But this picture will remain always young."

I'm currently doing a Psychology project for Narcissistic Personality Disorder, and all i've gotten done up to now, and it's been 4 hours, is the front page of a brochure, not-so-extensive research, and in the brief moments between, i've lusted over Dorian Gray.. it's only appropriate.
My back aches like hell, and the tip of my nose might've gotten frostbite an hour or so ago.
I also am strangely in the mood to watch Good Bye Lenin. I love Daniel Bruhl, and the fact that he speaks fluent spanish, german, and english. Multi-lingual boyz are where it's at.

Off-topic, Calvin Harris really doesn't know how to rhyme, but it's fine, he's still cool.

"You must protect her from any kind of excitement. And I do mean any kind, Mr. Kerner."

lara stone, may i please have your bod? Thank you, that'd be lovely.

Go, Mordecai!

as a response to madison's threatening blog title, i have appeared at her home with the Royal Tenenbaums in hand, courtesy of Michael Carrady because I , shockingly enough, don't own the film. After hours of relentlessly sobbing and wishing we were fashun modelz for steven meisel, we have sat down (laid down) to watch it.
Oh, as a little note to Wes Anderson, way to put Elliott Smith as the background to the scene where the character kills himself. Appropriate, hm?
I still adore you, ever since 7th grade when my old history teacher used to play Seu Jorge and Bowie while we took tests. Perhaps that's why I always associate the Russian Revolution with pseudo-Jacques Cousteau and Willem Dafoe whining. Ehrm..

moi je joue

Camille Javal: You like all of me? My mouth? My eyes? My nose? And my ears?
Paul Javal: Yes, all of you.
Camille Javal: Then you love me... totally?
Paul Javal: Yes. Totally... tenderly... tragically.

"A lot of people basically are obsessed with the missus and I don't know really ... she's just a bird from South London"

and what a wonderful bird she is. Her waifish charm will never let us down, no matter what you all say!
She's taught us all that looking like we have the diet of an orphan in the Victorian age is attractive, and so it is!
Yet another pointless post by yours truly, but I had to find a way to incorporate this picture in somewhere, somehow, because I recently found it and instantly became infatuated.

rêver un impossible rêve

This song brings me to tears. No, really. There's something about the combination of Jacques Brel's voice and the story of Don Quijote that breaks my heart but make my hairs stand on end. It's sublime, I tell you. I have this song on a CD, though I long to have it on Vinyl. That would sound even more incredible.
So, yeah, I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.
He carries so much fervor in his voice, which I think fits perfectly with the equally passionate Don Quijote.
oh and there's a cover of one of my other favourite Jacques Brel songs, by Beirut. It's perfect, I think.
Here it is.

if all works out well..

i will be spending my july in paris, and madison in florence. i think it will be lovely. And I also do hope that the Oxbridge program, which i will hopefully be attending, is lenient with us leaving the campus.
Because I truly do plan on boning any fellow I see with an uncanny resemblance to Jean-Pierre Léaud.
And Madison would get to see masculine perfection incarnated (well, in-marble-ated?).. Michaelangelo's David. ahh the envy.

i'd go more into the program, but I wouldn't want to bore you, though i'm not too sure how it possibly could. Well, at first i was yearning to take Film in France and Existentialism, but, well, things arose, and I might end up taking Literary Paris and Photography.. though I might switch to Film in France instead of Photography.
nothing against Doisneau or Brassai, just... I don't know, i'm considering it.
well, the program basically consists of me arriving in paris on july second and taking a major and minor class every day, but weekends, in between and after classes I can prance around Paris as I wish.
Oh, how i ache to go!

Markus Lupfer, be mine?

i found these to be the gemz of the Armand Basi One pret-a-porter spring collection,2009
if only i had the benjamins to afford any of these things.
i might as well just gawk and mourn, i haven't any other choice, i simply don't!
and of course, you may all join me in this bittersweet affair.

nietzsche was a wise man

and I, apparently, am a pompous woman for quoting him. I'll shrug it off, as we continue to the next line.

"Thoughts are the shadows of our feelings -- always darker, emptier, and simpler" Friedrich Nietzsche

You know those quotes that may not be seething in literary language or beauty, but are so true and lead you to a brief, but significant, moment of lucidity right after? Well, the one above is.
So is one from the film The Dreamers-
Isabelle: Other people's parents are always nicer than our own, and yet for some reason, our grandparents are always nicer than other people's.
Matthew: You know, that's true. That's... That's absolutely true. I never thought about it before, but it's... it's true.
See? He gets what i'm saying.
Not so off-topic, I do agree with Nietzsche, and I reckon it explains why feelings are so difficult to condense into words, and all.

This is quite the pointless post, but I was just thinking about that quote and well, the keys were typed on their own!

(photograph by Bill Brandt)

"I can't listen to that much Wagner. I start getting the urge to conquer Poland"

let’s step up the androgyny and have every girl dress up as annie hall, shall we?

karen Horney may’ve dissed penis envy, but diane keaton knew that that was where it’s at.

(photography by Matthew Brookes)

big black wolf

The above photograph does not represent at all what mood I’m in right now. I simply thought it might be aesthetically pleasing. I’ve been doing some mad rhymez with my friend madison today. we’ve talked about esoteric topics, and the fact that the word esoteric is actually esoteric to us. we have also watched a baseball game, in which the colonees have beat the colonizers! (Puerto Rico-11, USA-1) We have eaten Chinese and watched filmz and analyzed disorders, nonstop. There are two points in my body that are killing me right now: my lower back and the left side of my neck. This is a blog, I reckon i have to be as explicit about my life as possible. I’ll leave now and go sob in a corner because I don’t possess Cat Power’s vocal chords. Woe is me. lolz

g’night children.

(postcard,mid20th century,sold on Route66)

POSTED ORIGINALLY: Sunday, March 14, 2009

ineptitud and rage: the reason for this change

Something happened, yet another act of incompetence on behalf of the internet, and i have no way of logging into my previous account. So, the dates and times will be all wrong in the following posts, but better to have them than not to at all. Well, sorry for the inconveniences, hope all is well.

(painting: Porträt eines Unbekannten, by Albrecht Dürer)