Mary

Dear Beth and Manly,

No one reads this anymore. I don't write here anymore. But since last night generally felt like the biggest digression of this past year, an example of a social situation I generally prefer to avoid, why not do something I used to do to deal in the old days? I don't do well with "reunions." I like unions while they're unions. And when they're over? Onward!
I only ever feel compelled to write about my feelings and complicated thought processes when I'm in the kinds of contemplative moods that I currently am in now.

Do you know exactly when you lost your innocence? I don't even want it back; but sometimes I find myself wondering what I'd be like if I lost it the way everyone else usually does. One of my friend's said to me everyone should get their heartbroken to know love. I've suffered from a broken heart (I arguably still do some days) but not in the same way she was referring to. Does it still count? Do I know this "love" she is referring to? Or do I know a different kind of love? A love that isn't transparent and clouded by the innate need and desperation to consummate.

A boy has never broke my heart. I'd like to know that pain. One day, no doubt. But not yet. And not today.I'm in no rush. This is not a race. Until then, I have Caleb Followill's voice to do for me at night, what I suppose your significant others do for you.

People in relationships can be hard to be around. I hate people feeling conflicted because they feel the need to entertain me while also stroking their significant other. Just let me be. I'm a big girl. I'm just fine on my own. Finer than you even.

December, no doubt, is always the hardest. Oh yearning, you are my most painful and yet most favourite feeling.

Love Always,
Lola Anarcha N.

It started and it will end with a film. Trust me.

October 23, 2010

I alienate people. It's one of my many talents.
I can't let others who feel hurt just because I don't fulfill the idea of me that they have created, affect how I feel. Because right now I feel like it's truly unfair and it's upsetting me. I wish I knew other dedicated writers. I wouldn't feel so alone. But all I know are hacks who chase boys for validation (as opposed to love.) Why do I feel alone? Because I have a sick attachment to my art. And I want to know that I'm not the only one with this sickness.

Fucked up and as happy as ever,
yours truly,
Lola Anarcha N.

Creamsoda and Illinois

I have a crush on this guy that works at this coffee shop I frequent. The kind of crush where I only know his name because of the label maker print on his name tag.

I haven't had a crush in years. The thing that is as equally exciting as it is infuriating is the very fact that crushes generally evolve from little to no interaction. Most of the time we don't even know the people we have these little emotional things for. The funny thing about this crush? After he served me 2 or 3 times in a very short timespan (of which one of these times I was with my sister and immensely hung over and looking like a rancid courtney love) I stopped seeing him. And it's important to mention that non of these interactions were particularly flirty. I didn't feel any sort of vibe from him, and as the Libra that i am, I'm pretty sure I acted surprisingly reserved (always consumed by copious amounts of scripts to read, or the need to absorb alcohol).

Once I caught him (or the idea of him) crossing my mind as I passed by this coffee shop as I so often do every now and again, I stopped seeing him in real life. He disappeared. He no longer served me my large blacks. It's as if he is no longer employed by said coffee shop. I don't think much would come of this unrequited "like" anyway if I ever do end up seeing him again because it's just difficult to connect with a stranger and progress that connection into a potential and eventual friendship. That, and I'm afraid of "the chase." It's intimidating and vulnerable. And as a self-proclaimed feminist the very thought of appearing vulnerable sounds weak and I'm anything but.

But if we were to ever meet again and maybe even become acquaintances, I think he would be a choice companion to see films with. At the Royal... the Bloor. Pretty together. If somebody were to ask me what I want on a "social" level - just someone I respect and actually like and find interesting to accompany me to interesting films, concerts. Someone to dance to MSTRKRFT with. And roadtrip with to Illinois if I wanted to.

It is quite rare when I actually attend movies with a "friend" and it's because several of these people in my social circles are people I find it challenging to connect with creatively and spiritually. There's a lack of spirit I can really get behind. That's why when I think I can see something good in someone, it's exciting.

I'm in a good place right now. And soon enough, by the new year, I'll be someplace even better. This I know. 2011 afterall was my family's Bonanza Video pin code. And that to me, means something.

You took me to see the Cleveland Indians and left ME at the stadium

I just found out some news about you. And I'm quite disturbed.
You better have acted out of intimidation.

And I segueway, as the queen of segueway that I am... If you've ever wanted to know anything about me... you can learn everything from The Little Giants. All quotes - MEMORABLE.

Junior Floyd: You wanna learn how to kiss?
Becky O'Shea: No. Why, do you?
Junior Floyd: No. Eeww I just got that vomit taste in my mouth.
Becky O'Shea: Come on, you gotta learn sometime. I mean if you wanna get a job and have kids and stuff.
Junior Floyd: You can have kids without kissing...
Becky O'Shea: Yeah, but you can't get a job. You know, for scientific reasons and stuff.
Junior Floyd: Well... become a teacher.


[receiving their uniforms]
Tad: Death shrouds
[flips one around]
Danny O'Shea: They've got your names on the back.
Jake Berman: So the guys at the morgue can identify the bodies.


Karen O'Shea: Kevin, this is pee-wee football. It's supposed to be fun.
Kevin O'Shea: Not fun anymore. See, all the fun is gone now. See now, It's WAR!


Priscilla: God bless family, friends, flowers, Nickelodeon, fuzzy little kittens, Pez, Mr. Lerenzo, the school janitor 'cause he's so hairy.
Kevin O'Shea: He's an unfortunate man Priscilla.


Spike: Look, you berzerko Barbie doll, when you mess with Spike, you mess with death.
Becky O'Shea: You can talk the talk but can you walk the walk?
Spike: Try me!
Becky O'Shea: I will!
Spike: Let's go!
Becky O'Shea: Right now!
Jake Berman: SOMEBODY CALL 911!



Becky O'Shea: What a hunk. Wait a minute? What am I saying? I'm the Icebox. Icebox doesn't like boys. Except for that one...

Fresh Skivvies and a Map of the Goddamned World

I either need to have sex or go to Europe. And seeing as though I can never make it past second base without suddenly becoming utterly repulsed by the gentlemen to whom with which I am "getting bad" - I'd say I'd have better luck in Prague.

Luck with what?

I don't know. Feeling alive. Feeling pain when I prick my finger, feeling numb at the sight of my own blood pearling up, tasting the salt and not liking it as much as I do now. I should recoil at the taste. And I should feel sadness when someone's relative dies other them complete lack of remorse. Other than "oh that's too bad, a million babies are starving in Africa." Feeling lust for something breathtaking instead of something mediocre we give way to much credit to. Feeling like there's a point to all this. There must be a point and I think I'm doing a prince of a job missing that point.

Match point.

Yes. Match point.

You like to win?

Love it.

And losing?

Not anymore.

How can you be so sure?

Trust me.

2 magic words and suddenly I'm sure? I believe you?

You can be as sure of me as you are of the world without God.

What?

Have I confused you?

Completely.

Well good, I wasn't born to make your life easy. I was born to do something grand.

Go to Europe or have sex?

Precisely so.

Hmmm.

Will you excuse me now, I must retire to my room and pack.

Bring plenty of fresh underwear.

I shall.

And a map.

Of course, the last thing I want is to get lost. ....Unless it's all on purpose that is. Than I'd really feel alive.

xo

forget that you know me

it's not that i don't want you to know me, because it's more that I don't really want to know you. but it's more than that; it's that i don't like when my old world and my new world collide and create another world in effect. in fact, go ahead and create a new world and i just won't be part of said new world's species. i'll live on another planet, preferably all alone. except i'd want their to be time... and smoothies. an innumerable, inexhaustible amount of smoothies. but not for you. or you either. but for me. all for me.

LO!!!!

iambic pentameter

Shakespeare, you are the man.



BIRON: How low soever the matter, I hope in God for high words.

LONGAVILLE: A high hope for a low heaven: God grant us patience!

BIRON: To hear? or forbear laughing?

LONGAVILLE: To hear meekly, sir, and to laugh moderately; or to
forbear both.

BIRON: Well, sir, be it as the style shall give us cause to
climb in the merriness.


lo