January 27, 2016

EVERYTHING IS WORTH YOUR TIME except stupid petty shit

It's somehow always kind of pathetic coming back to the blog you started in 6th grade for emotional use. PATHETIC?

I never really know what to write about because I haven't written in so long. There's always too much too say and no room to start.

I wonder if people ever wonder what I'm doing and who I am. I certainly think about you and what you maybe doing. I wonder if people still think about others and if people still are curious. I still read everyone elses things. I probably think about you too much with all the information in the world.

I finally come.  Realizing that it doesn't matter where it starts or ends,  or who you are or what you think because the more you sleep the more you sleep.

I just want to feel something.

And it is that simple.

 I give awful advice, but I can really speak for myself.... AND  FOR OTHER PEOPLE TOO, SPEAK FOR YOURSELVES. Know what you say STAND FOR YOURSELF.

If your a mean bitter girl, you probably won't have good friends.

Or if you choose to only show that side to you, but you really love goofy dirty jokes.You could be a great friend, but why don't you have any?

I'm a perfect example.


 Almost to the point where it really doesn't matter and just do something nice for someone else tomorrow and be aware of things going on. 


:( :(


maybe I shouldnt BE SMOKING SO MUCH  but yeah yeah everyone please MAYBE I'M THE ONLY ONE WHO UNDERSTAND... ( this is the problem right here!)

Because everyone decently to some degree understands and if you cannot, then you really need to find a hobby or a pet or maybe fuck up a little bit

I'm so so so sick of apologizing for my feelings and being called crazy, justifying myself that I am crazy when really i'm actually just feeling


or I could be ignorant

you must taste the precious time that you once filled with lovely ideas.

 and without any hesitation, you eat it. In one big bite, you swallow something worth your time. Or maybe not, but it somehow is still worth your time.

thats nothing is worth my time, BECAUSE EVERYTHING IS WORTH MY TIME.

Do you feel anything anymore? 

 I will not apologize for my nasty healthy brain.

October 21, 2015

It's A Shame

Time is ridiculous. Sitting in class for almost three hours while three years have gone by too fast. I sit and count minutes and melt into myself of being post stoned and irritated.

Desperately, I drink my coffee to wake myself and feel productive.

I haven't done anything in three years, but still give myself excuses to not want to work or ask myself whats the point?

Continuously, proving to myself there actually is no point and that everything is strange.

 T. Rex begins to play in my head.

 Angrily and in shock. What kinds of people walk this earth?

Japanese jazz plays in my head and I feel okay again.

July 24, 2015


I can't tell if its from being home or simply going crazy. I've been disappointed with this summer.

I'm not feeling well.

Okay, so go puke? I don't know you rather sit at home and watch HBO specials all night. I'll grab u a pillow and some tissues, just love yourself. Do whats right. STAY IN.

 And what? Watch some TV over a conversation to yourself?

I just wonder, don't your feet get itchy. I'd love to get up and walk around with you, but you've seemed to stop caring or even thinking.

I don't want what makes sense.


good luck

Besides other people bumming, I've actually been quite good.

I'm finally trying to get organized. I think I'll focus on my writing, become a little Sophie Calle. I think it'll help me want to paint more and less self portraits since no ones interested anymore.

 Such a waste of life to always be in a hurry. 

Such a waste of life to always be staying in. 

I'm still looking.

Taking my time.


June 4, 2015


As my mind races I pick my face and sit in front of a mirror that mimics a repetitive sad expression.

It mocks me as I pick at it slowly trying to understand whats underneath this skin.

I sit here after a long hour of phone calls and getting yelled at by my boss.

A click at the end of the phone made peace and I could finally breath.

I sit in front of a mirror and come up with excuses to not meet with my friend tomorrow. It's important and I'm coming up with excuses. I find it quite pathetic.

I can't help, but not have any words.

I always wonder if the other person in the situation is thinking about it as much as me.

Its pathetic.


June 2, 2015


Hello and welcome back to 'home'

...or for the lucky people, welcome to your new apartment... chapters in your life... whatever...wherever.

My first year of college has ended and finally I can crawl back into my second grade bed and remind myself who I am. Since that cold part of me has finally melted, exposing itself into the sun, its time to re-glamorize.

Oh, Hettie. Or Oh, _____. Don't lose yourself with all this school work// work work. Pay roll periods finally start while my period continues realizing that thats least important.

PAY PERIODS are actual hell.



I need money for fun and love. A coka cola costs almost 2 bucks these days.

And free time doesn't exist while I'm bombarbed with ' can you take my shifts' and ' I can't work today' phone calls.

Life is so sad and fast.

While we all consider getting high and falling asleep, I feel there is something I'm missing out there. And I will continously look for it until I die.



February 23, 2015


Sleep is so important.

And school is so boring.

Here's some of my work!

Oh, wow. You're so amazing, everything is so brilliant. So new, so fresh. So cool, so rad.

I don't know how to feel about my portfolio at the moment. my art work is everywhere, right?

February 20, 2015




The constant talking on phone and ignoring me unless her friends are here. I've questioned everything that has to do with having a bedroom. Something so personal to me has become a death trap.

Please, send me prayers, sometimes I feel I won't make it outta here. 



February 12, 2015


I don't like to fight with people, but sometimes I just can't simply keep my mouth shut.

This week I have been noticibly down, maybe it's because I haven't been sleeping well or things just haven't been going my way.

I haven't been able to paint.

And as I point fingers at everyone else, I'll soon realize that it's me being the complete grouch.

I just don't want to believe it.

It was Matias birthday this week which was really nice. We ate an entire slab of ribs with hush puppies and carrot cake for dessert.

It was sweet.

Then afterwords, I turn sour from being too full and become more stubborn than ever. Then, I have to go out and talk to people.

The worst thing ever is talking to people when you don't want to talk at all. 

That night was fine. I talked as one kid goes on about the grammy's and past facts as his high doses of adderal wears off as he wears on me.

I get sick of it.

I don't know why, but people make me feel dumb.

Or maybe more numb than anything since I know I'm not an idiot.

When I talk, I get at least one person genuinely listening.

And the doctors prescribe adderal to relate, but it just makes me skinny and sick.

It makes your brain fat with knowledge that fills you up so much your stomach hurts.

And my friends tell me I act differently when doctors said it would help.

I find myself closed in a room and there's no one to talk too.

Adderal is such a strange thing to me, why has our schools become so tolerate to such an artificial learning. I wish my teachers could accept my style of writing and bless me in some other kind of way. And as they push me farther away from wanting it, I find myself closing in on myself.

I want to learn so I can feel peace, but this headache won't go away.


February 5, 2015

It's such a strange moment when you apologize to someone who, honestly, does not even deserve it. Then, you pause wait for them to finally admit to herself that there's something making her want to apologize too, but there's a silence that breaks this curiousity.

Silence ends.

I suddendly wish I could take it back.

February 3, 2015


As the weather gets colder in Chicago, people seem to slowly start to act differently. Not in a miserable way, but there's some relationship between everyone saying, " this fucking sucks ".

Yes, it does fucking suck, but people sometimes ignore the fact that it brings the city together is a warm way.

Separating us from homes, but the minute the door opens to whatever warm place you entered. A mutual cold bond forms between you and someone else.

Weeks ago, you and this person had nothing to talk about.

Now, you can agree that this weather maybe worse than yesterdays and faces read the same exact feelings.

Though, some may not want to talk about it. I've found it comforting to laugh at my wet socks and frozen hair. The woman at the security counter will laugh and nod her head letting me pass.

A simple gesture, but sometimes thats simply all you need.

I've found these small gestures of head nods comforting here in Chicago.

Chicago being a very, very cold place.

I've completely fallen in love with it.

January 29, 2015


 Everyone's getting drunk and high all the time which I can't say I dislike.

There's this thing called alone time which really doesn't exist here.

Especially at this strange place, art school.

I always thought art school was going to be the coolest thing in the world. Well, I've still found myself still waiting for something to happen. I'm making as much art as I would at home. Possibly, different art, but I've always been making junk loads of shit to hid inside my room.

Well, I guess one good thing is some of my work is going to be featured in this girls show.

It's going to be focused on VOODOO...

Ritual babe coming your way

I'm really happy about that since critiques can make you feel pretty shitty. 
I always think about the times when I work my ass off and then someone makes one small comment that pisses you off more than any other comment mentioned.  

 Like, " I don't understand... yaddayaddayadda" when truly, there isn't nothing to understand. 

But as the artist, I want you to simple look. 
But you're failing at that too. 

Oh, woe is me. It's so hard being an artist. 

Also, I still hate my roomate to the moon and back. She's a strange one, one of those non-art-school girls that just decided to come here. Made a bad decision and now casts spells on anyone that comes in her way. 

Some what of one of those sad New Trier girls, who think their lives are so interesting, but really they watch TV every night and cry about their boyfriends being shitty since they can't get any. Oops, I'm sorry for your misforntunes, but when you're 18 or so years old, its time to help yourself. No?

I don't know, I can't seem to feel bad for anyone anymore since I've feel so shitty because of them. They like to dawn on others. 

Others who are exceptionally happy with their choices and understand whats actually good for them. 

You know, like you should help yourself, and honestly quit listening to anyone else, but yourself. Maybe the friends you consider smart and have similar interests in mind. 

And don't listen to your mom. 

Unless, she's exactly who you want to be when you're older. I've found it much more fun to listen to yourself and if you're wrong, you're moms always there to talk. 

I know it's lame, but this is your only chance to do whatever you want. 

Before we get old, and dry. 

Mentally dull and at home unsettled with dreams you never seemed to live. 

A fear of mine that continues to drive my life.


Urgh, my roommate sprays terrible perfume everywhere. I've lost the blood flow to my head now and as she continues to talk to herself, I plan to throw the perfume bottle at her head. Now, that I cannot think straight. I'll go take a nap. 

Please, enjoy yourselfs as I watch some suffer in misery like someone else is doing this to them. Unless, it really is someone else being evil. Please, enjoy these years of being before who knows what happens. 

Times are good now.

Before, we all get, you know, dry. 




I hope that everyone goes through obsessions just as I do.

I'll find someone who's made something brilliant and totally focus on it for god knows how long and it becomes something beyond media to me. Something probably too real.

Maya Deren is a experiemental film gal from around the 40s whos work explores perception of space and time. Her films are extremely engaging, but some find them a little bit too bizarre to really care.

To me, I think everyone should know who this artist is.

She's a lady who does not get enough attention.

I mean,  she's played chess with Duchamp.

That asshole.

This being one of my favorite stills. She wears a black cloak covering everything with a mirror covering her face. Maya Deren is a little spooky.


Though it almost feels she has no idea what she is doing, it comes together to make some sort of lost narrative. Please, please, check this lady out. 


January 25, 2015


There once was a time where my mom would call me a thousand times in one night and I didn't seem to bother or my phone laid next to me completely off unreachable.

I like to call it freedom.

Now, I sit in a bathroom calling my mom a thousand times while she's in New York, living.

January 24, 2015


This week I started class. And for some reason, I always get extremely nervous. I actually loose my appiete and turns my stomach into a giant knot.

The first day of class should be the easiest since its going over assignment after assignment, but the intial fear of getting THAT asshole teacher lingers in your head.

Teachers either love you or hate you.

I don't live in academia at all.
No one should.

The language is different. Teachers don't talk to you how they talk to others in their lives.

School to me is boring, but that maybe the idea I got from something when I was younger that just turned into my reality.

I think I once found it fun when I was making maps and we could sing songs and do dances to learn vocabulary.. Now, sitting at a desk has turned me into a student who nods her head in understanding some boring lecture about something thats too far off in my life for me to truly relate too.

Reading old israeli text, unless that is you're reads, please continue to love and devour every word and taste each bit of it.

It's genuinetly hard for me to read and the frustration that comes with it makes class harder for me to focus.

I love to participate, but everytime you talk the teachers manipulates the words into a completely different idea.

Some people are visual.

I still like to listen to a good story.

And listening to a slow story is boring, I like a fast suspensful drama that includes love and death and life and the total outcome shows the beauty in all of those and is told is the most simple way.

I can't follow along a lot.

I don't think a lot of people do.

Some people are naturally good readers who pick up on the story when they read. I have to read something 4 times or so and also have questions I have to ask myself like whos this person and why are they going here?

I think. haiorgajigaogj. My brain just can't connect. I'll find a fragment of broken words something about the orange sun and I'll focus on just that and conduct my own story.

Daydreaming in class, something most students don't do, but I recommend it.


Sleep is so important.

It's everyone thing.

Unless you don't or you can't or you wake up everyday at the same time.

I'm up at 7 every saturday.

January 15, 2015


Friendship is so strange to me. There not family, but people you've met later in your life who you look at as if they maybe a brother or sister. For me, I've been friends with a couple of people I've met around 3rd grade or so. Then, I have my most recent group of friends who I'd call much different from the people I spent growing up with in Winnetka.

Well, the first thing is is I never felt completely comfort in Winnetka so my friendships were short termed. I always wanted to leave and for some reason, people there seemed to like it.

I think of it as being afraid. They like the comfort there. It's definitely no Chicago.. I actually laugh about it all the time.

And in between these time periods of groups of people I call friends, like actual friends I'd call in times of trouble. I went through maybe 100 different friend groups where I tried to find someone.

I'm in need of some friends.

But, it just seems to me that people aren't looking for the friendship I am looking for.

I want an honest relationship with good meanings and lots of fun.
It's not like I'm asking for a lot, but a lot of people I know or thought I was friends with proved to me they do not care about any of those things.

They strictly care about if you are willing to have people over, willing to throw money of booze, and if OTHERS like you so they're willing to bring you around..

And it weirds me how people have separated friendships for separated parts of themselves. How do you really ignore this when you hangout with this person?

Am I maybe tough?

I don't know. I can't tell, but all I know if all my friends bother me all the time.

I think its maturity.

Everyone's still trying to get their fix and I'm just trying to sit and hangout. Yeah, I'd love to go out.

But I'm not dying too, so no one bothers to invite me at all anymore.

I've seem to realize maybe it is me, then I remember who I've been defriended by and I'm grateful again.

I have some friends who live only by their schedules and love to text me only when they have their free time.

And I've gotten really sick of my friends who think they know me like know me so well they can read me, you can never read someone by the way. Especially at this time of young age where we change.

And I understand people are people and friends are friends.

And I am no friends responsibility.

All I want to say is it would be fucking nice to be invited once in awhile by your best friend or any friends at all.

 But especially, a so called best friend. I've began to think they really just love the fucking title because they love you, but they're really into themselves at the moment.






It's the small things, small gestures of invitations or things you like. Hey, I know you've been feeling down let's get some sushi. Or, lets grab some tea.

And I know I'm tough and stubborn, but that doesn't mean I don't like going out and being around all types of people.

Some people are such idiots for assuming things.

Some friends are such idiots for assumings things.

And now in college, the friendship games have changed.

Some people had the greatest friendships of high school and others found it challenging as others did. And then you have the liars, who can't admit that they picked their friends based on terrible reason.

I know maybe people of that nature and I really hope they can think about what they've done.

People really need to pick friends wisely because you become who are around.
And friend's inspire you to be one way or another.


p.s  I'm getting my mustache LASERED off so maybe that will help.



January 12, 2015

As I sit in my empty dorm,  I think about all the things needed to be done. Some dishes, laundry from about 3 weeks ago, and there is clothing everywhere.

I never thought my love for shopping would kill me, but it slowly will. I'll loose oxygen and you'll find me buried under a million sweaters.

I need to organize my classes and figure out which days I actually have serious work to do and organize when I can really do nothing.

I need to pray for the weather to get better and my pulled tummy muscle need to relax so I can go back to eating my normal routine of unhealthy healthy food.

Something strange.

I text my roommate to see when she will be back and she never text me back. She actually never said bye to me and when I texted her hoping that she has a good break. She never responded then either.

I have a gut feeling that she might never come back at all.

I don't know, this is my first roommate and I find it extremely strange to ignore me.

And I know it's none of my business, but she totally failed two of her classes and lied completely to my face about it saying that classes has been cancelled for 2 weeks when I'm not an idiot. SAIC would never do that. Period.

You can only miss two classes total in a semester, I can't believe that she would make up that class was cancelled during finals week...

I think she thinks I'm stupid..

Or maybe, I'm the asshole and she just simply hates it here.

I just wish she would let me know and give me a heads up because I am living with her.

Her oddness makes me feel 120% unwanted in this environment and as time came closer to break, she seemed to become stranger and stranger with everything.

I know its terrible to rant about people behind their backs, but it seems that she wants nothing to do with me. So, I doubt she'll be reading my blog.

120% I have felt unwanted and weird.

Roommates are weird.
Dorms are weird.
I cannot wait to have an apartment off campus so I can hold mini parties where people smoke and drink and listen to great old tunes from our parents era and you know, do mildly safe acts and enjoy each others company.

Oh! I also have one of my first shows thats like a real show coming up at my friend, Tannaz place. I am so excited. I'll post more details once I find out more.

Its a VOODOO show, perfect for my VOODOO work.

Aw, my art is what really makes me happy.
Aw, it's so good to be completely happy.

It makes you feel free.

And that's all you need.