Thursday, 29 January 2009

Go Ask Alice... And Then Tell Her To Shut Up!

The other evening while cleaning my room, I suddenly began to turn around slowly to face my teetering stack of books which lie next to my bed.

I slowly reached my hand out to a familiar cover, that I had not yet investigated, and pulled out, 'Go Ask Alice' by "Anonymous".

I sat down amongst my cleaning and started reading the first few pages and then Mr Dark rang and it wasn't until a little after 2am did I pick up the book again.

After the first few pages, I had to read more, I had to know what this mystery girl was going to come to. And then I did learn her fate, at around 10 to 5 in the morning and closed the book and sobbed with sadness, and quite possibly, exhaustion.

I just felt so bad for her. Whether she was fiction or not, no character should have to be dragged through the muck like that.

I had my hesitations about believing if the story was true or not, and later that morning Jake confirmed my suspicions that it was in fact a work of fiction cooked up my some Mormon group or whatever, which made me feel a whole lot better.

It was still a decent book. The writing was similar to that of a 15 year old girl. I would know, because I wrote scarily similar to her in my own diary.

It was only when I read her descriptions of her drug-induced state did I feel that it didn't quite ring true... and then when the audience is told with a * that the rest of the entries (up until her second diary) were found of paper and paperbags. If she really was that out of her mind, I doubt she had the sense to keep all her thoughts with her throughout her whole wild journey.

It did make me feel bad though about my own past desires. I had always wanted to try acid, at least once, and when I was much, much, much older, and only with people I trusted with my life.

After a conversation with Jake, I'm not so sure. Do I really want to be completely out of control for hours on end? Do I really want to have flashbacks? Do I really want my brain to see things that are hovering on my subconscious? I'm not sure. Because I don't think its good.

It almost feels like a battle. Like I should face it in order to prove that I can make it through the night.

Ha. Silliness.

Anyway... take a look at it, if you haven't. There was even a movie made with *dramatic pause* William Shatner.

In the rest of my life... I may be on Taxi TV in NYC soon. If it does air, it'll be so funny.

Tuesday, 20 January 2009

Squeezing The Juice Out Of 2009

Hello to my 50 pretty followers...

I think it's scary that Renee Zellweger and I want the same things out of life.
Very scary.

You know you're unsatisfied with your life when you start taking advice from a 15 year old.
Oh, to be young, bold and fearless.
You can blame Taylor Momsen when I die of a heart attack, because I have decided, against my doctors wishes and until my irregular heart pulpitations return, to start drinking Red Bull.
I was very much against them, but since I've move to New York City, it seems all I do is sleep and run late and delay and sleep.
So I'm joining the millions of winged-assholes and am going to see if life is easier on Red Bull.

We'll see.

Hopefully, I'll turn to eating healthier, exercise and going to bed at good hours soon after this test.

The Tired Sprite Bottle and The Container of Fried Chicken