I SOLD OUT

I'm not here anymore. I don't blog like this anymore. Current news no longer interests me I suppose and my style of "blogging" or writing has changed. Forgive me, I may come back one day.

You can now find me here: AyePlus.tumblr.com

-A

Honestly #7

These are stupid rap lines I come up with at 3:10 am:

"You fuck me?, bitch I'll erase you from my memory, eternal sunshine of the spotted mind, piece gone like J Kennedy."

or

Oh fuck me? Bitch I'll erase your whole memory.
Eternal Darkness of The Spotted Mind,
Chunk gone like J. Kennedy.

Or about 2 other variations of that same line.

Idk. Random ignorant bars are easy to come up with.

-A

Remember when?

I used to blog about current events?
Remember when I used to blog about world issues and politics?
Remember when I used to put more effort into this?
If you do, that's going on 2 years ago.

Damn.

-A

Update (Obviously) Again

Hey um, I'm drained.
Anyway why can't I have happy stalkers? Why are my anonymous stalkers so angry? Could there ever be such a thing as someone who's obsessed w/ something, in an ok or healthy way? No, because one most definitely defeats the other. But anywho, I was fucking with my proposed new blog server, (on Wordpress; a Tumblr account IS NOT Blogging. See: Web scrap-booking), and I don' like it there. So many options and little bars, I don't think I need that many options. Yet I would prefer a more refined blog style with a larger main column. So when I eventually feel like putting effort into something that does not matter... I'll tweak it and renovate the place.

-A

---

Edited on Saturday, Nov. 21st, 2009 to say:

:: "Yeah , I know" face ::

I think I might stick my foot in my mouth and say; a tumblr account in not often used as a real blog, but... can be in the right hands. Those hands possibly being mine.

:: "Yeah, I know" face ::

-A

I USED TO

think Drake was the man at one point but then:

He turned into that nigga andd...
Fuck you drake for being the rich kid that we only hang with because you buy all the weed, even though you don't inhale. Fuck that shag rug around your neck and FUCK Wale's middle stripe crew neck.
How is this in GQ? Only Cudi gets a "Go." SMDH

Don't even make me get into a "what happened to rappers?!" discussion right now.
-A

Too Long For Twitter #1

Inside Thought: You remember where you were the first time you heard Jim Jones - "Summer Wit Miami?" Had me thinking I'd sold kilos in Dade County before. #hoodratshit

"Top Notch" Sosaaaaa Bitch. :P

-A

Sleepless nights

Long hours &
Rain &
dark
wet
cold
concrete &
scuffed leather &
bite marks &
broken nails &
ashes &
eyeliner
red lipstick
stockings &
garter belts &
broken strands of hair.
Salt & Sting and
All The Sins in between.



-A

"It's Almost Christmas Time" Music...In NYC.

(YES IT IS IMEEM, JUST FUCKING SIGN IN)

-A

Honestly #6

Subwoofers do it for me.

-A

Swoon

These are kinda cheesy. Yet, I absolutely love the romanticized idea of love they portray nontheless...

Vivien Leigh & Laurence Olivier in "That Hamilton Woman"




The real scene I wanted to find was of when he falls ill & she handles absolutely everything for him.

-A

oh BTW,

I had my appendix taken out exactly 1 month ago today. I really don't want to go into it right now but I'll show you this:

2 days post surgery-

I don't know what it did to me yet, but it did something. Imagine that? I'll update this entry with a pic of 1 month post op later today.

-A
(I know, I cringe also)

I'd Love,

to talk politics with you all knowing beings sometime. Yet, I've decided its best to not comment on something unless you have the power to change it or are trying to.

-A

I need those boots...

My favorite scene in any piece of moving art, ever, in history:


-A

One Day...

...when the planets align, god says it's ok and there's enough trust to carry it along...

I will get married and dance on my oak wood floors, in my huge house, after a fight w/ my husband, while in my husband's arms; to this song:

"It's looking like a limb torn off
Or altogether just taken apart
We're reeling through an endless fall
We are the ever-living ghost of what once was

But no one is ever gonna love you more than I do
No one's gonna love you more than I do

And anything to make you smile
It is a better side of you to admire
But they should never take so long
Just to be over then back to another one

But no one is ever gonna love you more than I do
No one's gonna love you more than I do

But someone,
They could have warned you
When things start splitting at the seams and now
The whole thing's tumbling down
Things start splitting at the seams and now
If things start splitting at the seams and now,
It's tumbling down
Hard.

Anything to make you smile
You are the ever-living ghost of what once was
I never want to hear you say
That you'd be better off
Or you liked it that way

But no one is ever gonna love you more than I do
No one's gonna love you more than I do

But someone
They should have warned you
When things start splitting at the seams and now
The whole thing's tumbling down
Things start splitting at the seams and now
If things start splitting at the seams and now,
It's tumbling down
Hard"



-A

Classic

To understand a man like: "Alfie (1966)"

Start at 2:46 into scene here:

Continue on with this next entire one:

Now watch the rest of the following, but stop at 5:32 into the clip:


-A

My Dream Job

Would be to be a Writer/Actor on SNL... Shhh Don't tell Anyone.



-A

Starlet Dreams...

*Las Vegas Suites
I'll walk around these... (might want to mute)



[only because the presidential suite doesnt come w/ it's own pool.]
...in this

---

*Oh ello, My main estate is in Bridgehampton, will you be bringing guests?

Virtual Tour

---

*Cruise through all the Greek Islands in this

...While I wear this

...& this

...& this

---

*Then we'll fly this

...w/ me wearing this

...to here:

Where I'll change into this...

...Or this

...to go have dinner here

What Restaurant is This?

---

That's all for this episode in "I'm fucking bugging"

-A

50 Cent

is one "street" mother fucker. I was never able to sit through anyone of his interviews. In my view, he's be labeled as a "dumb, smart cat."
Yet, with him still being a hard pill to swallow, there is no denying this man's knack for talking shit. Shit-talking he supports with factual evidence. He is one business savvy/practical person. His business is rap, and he def knows what is going on in his industry. Along with how to use it to his advantage. His own genre of hip-hop itself, in danger of disappearing like disco in the 80's; he's constantly trying to stay afloat among sorry competition...



-A

Eh Mira,

"And I wonder
When I sing along with you
If everything could ever feel this real forever
If anything could ever be this good again

The only thing I'll ever ask of you
You've got to promise not to stop when I say when"
- not me

---

That sums up today's mood... pretty much.

-A

I'm not there.

But I'm not here either.

I wrote about 4 posts on here today that I deleted. It'll sort out soon.

-A

Update (Obviously)

I'm in the process of going through a lot of these posts and editing, especially in regards grammar. Forgive previous typos.

-A

and this is what happens when you stray from the Pack...

[Post still in editing process]

Hi.
My name is _________ Nicole _______.

I was going to just make a whole other blog for this one specific post.
That's how real I feel like getting.

YES. THAT REAL.

Had an epiphany today.
Came with at least two thirds a bottle of wine, a dime and Emo ass Kid Cudi playing in the background.

I don't expect you to expect anything from this blog. But it's about to get too honest.

I see around me... a bleak future for my peers. Nothing substantial.
I see people wasting time and numbing pain. I see in our eyes a common grayness.

Everyone feeling the same thing, but no one admitting it for fear of being the "emo" friend. Or , in better words: the overly "blooded, ardent, fervent, excitable, temperamental, melodramatic, tempestuous, demonstrative, responsive, tender, loving, feeling, sentimental, sensitive," one.

You know what I think?
No, no you don't cause you could never know me.

Done.

-A































NO, I couldn't. I couldn't leave it at only that.
To be absolutely, completely, honest: Tonight, my friend told me she tried to kill herself like 3 weeks ago and they had to pump her stomach.

:: FLatline::

---

I don't know how to begin on this subject, but I want to get my opinion out there.

First thing that came to my head?

-"I wasn't there for her."

Second Thing?

-"She has a three year old son, why would she do that?"

Third thing?

-"How can I help her?"

---

In all realness, we've ALL felt some kind of darkness overcome us completely at one time or another. Maybe not so much that we wanted to end our own lives, but enough that it hurt...bad.
I didn't even know what to start to tell her. I knew her life, where she came from, even why she became this person. But the words to say I understood, couldn't come out at first.

I believe we are so tied up in keeping that straight face, that we lose our ability to relate. To even try to touch bases with a common human, whom feels the same things you feel... all the time. To even understand that concept, you'd have to first grasp the idea that even the person sitting next to you on the train, has felt many of the same reactions to life that you have. Loss, Anger, Excitement, Peace, or Joy, we've all had those extreme moments.

Still, I couldn't, at first find something to tell her, without expressing my own weakness.
In that was the compromise. To be humane and give a fuck, takes off this Herculean shield. And of course why would one want to do that when YOU"RE COOOOOOLLLLL?!

Ugh, I feel like putting the comp down at this point. I don't want to tell people about themselves anymore. SO caught up with distractions, like zombies, led to look at the world in a certain way. God forbid someone told you about yourself. Wasting nights in a bottle of alcohol, wasting our lungs in a bong, fucking the pain away... replacing all the emotions your supposed to feel anyway in a substance. Why not just feel those things and find ways through them? Or to just live them?

NO one ever gave my friend a solution, or a way to cope. She thought giving out was the easiest road, thought that if she couldn't provide the life she wanted her son to have, then she shouldn't live at all. Where do we get these perverse twisted ideas of what life is supposed to be from? Why do we always think that the people we see smiling are happy? Why have to uphold a certain "rep?" Why not be real and say: "Yo, I feel like absolute shit today, please bear with me?" Why not get the response: "Yeah, me too dude?"

I started to see the pattern in our youth today most vividly through twitter... to be honest. I began noticing "scene goer's" late night desperate tweets. Sounding so empty, so alone. Yet when an "RT" to their blog is necessary, they talk to anyone and everyone about absolutely nothing. Push pictures of events about absolutely nothing, with people doing absolutely nothing (while high and drunk of course). Making music about absolutely nothing, writing about absolutely nothing. Nothing that mattered of course.

SO I ask myself do people really not see the bullshit? Could I really be that different? Am I the only one that noticed after that "poppin ass party" with all those "chill ass people" that unless u went home with someone, you felt the same? That the more you drank, the more you noticed that void? That the best part of the night was walking home with your homegirls, and how honest you were with each other? How hard you laughed once you left the "scene" and all the liquor that "took the edge off" had you now talking way too much shit.

I just don't know what were doing anymore. At 40 years old, are these parties gonna matter? Your blog gonna matter? That mix-tape you made and performed at Santos Party Haus mattered? Seriously? We have half private, half edited convos on a streaming timeline/chat room now? That's how we meet up to have quality time? LMFAO. I guess I'm just getting old.

While everyone else just seems to be getting younger and younger. My little brother and sister at 11 and in 7th grade remind me of the bleak state of our "e-cultured" youth even more. i.e: My little sister telling me about some of her classmates being "bi." Opening my little brothers IM message from a class mate, and the little cluck asking him how his love life is?! What in the fucking world is going on? You're 12! It just happening sooner and sooner, the desensitization.

From young, being fed this fucked up ideal of how we're supposed to look to everyone else, so much that we forgot how to be truly human. To love, forgive and relate. To care, to give a three flying fucks. To open up and express those horrible feelings you feel. Instead we clam up, keep that smile on, down that shot, write that tweet, take that pull, make that joke... all until our demise.

Only generation to never form a subculture was ours. You know what we'll be remembered as in 20 years?

The Douche Bag Generation.

-A
The above message was only intended for the masses. If i'm not talking to you, then I wont strike you.

Honestly #5

Me starting to use this blog as a journal = not good. Even I notice when I sound like a typical chick.
Yet, no art, music or video is able to move me at this point. I'm consumed with what's inside me.

-A

Sweet Dreams Are Made Of...

There was going to be a long post here on all of my most favorite things. Or more like things I would own had I had all the money I could ever want. But I got distracted

---

Either way, Sweet Dreams are made of all the things I can't have and in my right mind know I'll probably never get.
(unless someone wants to just come and give them to me of course)

-A

Blank Space?

Fill it innnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn.

"People call us renegades
'cause we like living crazy
We like taking on the town
Cause people getting lazy

I don't care what nobody says, no
I'm going to be her loverrrrrr
Always mad and usually drunk
But I love her like no other"

Orly?
Nonotrly.

-A

Honestly #4

Everyday single day I wake up, I desire to board a plane and just "leave." "Leave" to ANYWHERE but here. Though I know I won't be leaving anything behind, only bringing along extra baggage that will eventually have to be opened.

-A

Wanna watch some "smart" shit?

You care? You got 23 minutes? Watch this with me:

Brief video on the effects of Recession here and abroad-


-A

Honestly #3

I've never been good with having the right words. The wrong ones on the other hand?
Oh that is a gift I indeed possess.

-A

I've been watching too much Dexter.

For real. I know this because this fucking retarded show has me comparing myself to other people. As in "I'm different because _______."

Nooooo I'm not a serial killer and have no desire to even remotely hurt people. Well unless of course my life or the life of a family member is being threatened. But this was not my point...

Dexter constantly puts himself up against other people and notices the huge gap.
All emo shit aside... I can relate. There's this sense that you are somehow cut from a different cloth, somewhere along the way you learned something different that in turn made you different. I am not Dexter though in the sense that I am not so deep into my own way of thinking that I have developed a psychosis. I am able to think outside the box and relate to those whom can hardly do the same in return.

It's been very rare to come across people that I can hold to that same regard. Very few people get it. Those whom I have met are obviously my closest friends. Not always my longest friends but indeed my closest. So, when one of those people has been lost, it feels like a piece of the puzzle went missing. The puzzle being the bigger picture of course. These people somehow manage to help you see things in yourself that you never noticed. Dexter has/had these people also. We all need those people.

In a sense the best of these people end up being a companion & in turn your spouse and/or mate. Yet it's best to clarify that in my reality, it's not so much the person who can understand you; but more the person who is like you. To me, Anything besides the person like you... is just a person that is judging you. Judging and relating are two very different things. I feel you need to relate to a human to truly connect with them. You need to see yourself in someone else.

Eventually in typical "Love stories," this then leads to that pair being so connected they're emotions work in unison. Subsequently to truly care would mean that person's happiness becomes your own, and your happiness helps them thrive.

I honestly know nothing about that common denominator.



-A

It all changes yet manages to stay Exactly the same,

I'm not a poet, a writer or a rhymer.
These are just my thoughts...

[that shoud be my "Bio"]

Anyway seems obvious that this right here: (spec of space on the internet, titled "My Blog"), is somehow equivalent to the therapist chair.
i.e.: Come over (type address in address bar), sit in the chair (sign in to blogger), sit down (click edit new post) and spill (spill).

I like the word SPILL. Definitions: -to cause or allow especially accidentally or unintentionally to fall, flow, or run out so as to be lost or wasted. or -to spread profusely or beyond bounds.

Hmph.
?????

As to say that once something has spilled out it can no longer be retrieved = TRUE.
So I watch what I spill.
Yet to say that in turn would be an oxymoron. Due to the fact I would then be saying you can control spillage and that is simply FALSE.

---

I was going to use this post to write about what I think of other people. Specifically people who pretend. i.e.: You redo the whole facade of a house but never renovate the inside. Or paint the walls but never fix the plumbing. But who the fuck cares about those people?

---

I've been one of those people before. I watched what I said once upon a time, I used to care what my peers thought. I've even gone out my way to win people over.
Those things are now tiring. I rather show you upfront what you're working with.



-A