What? I'm bored, it's picture time.

I like to think that if Tim Burton made Harry Potter, he would focus on Sirius' obvious angstyness and make him look like this. I think Sirius (gee, and the whole Black family) is a really interesting character because he's one of the good guys, but as a person, he's really not good. He's selfish and disconnected and kind of emotionally stunted, but I don't think any of that is purely his fault.

Oh yeah, everyone has emagined this scene over and over in they're minds. This version was drawn by AccioBrain. I think that the scene tells us a lot about the character and motivations of people who we don't see very often.
The spines of a minimalist Harry Potter. I like mine better.

I have watched this documentary...several times.
Books. Books are happy. Yay books.
Hmm. Does this have some sort of commentary on real life?
Planning. Planning is inspiring.

I don't own any of this. Just wanted to make that clear.



Also, the concept of Lady Gaga ever being in high school is very, very strange.

Bloggity blog blog.

I'm not a good Quizbowler, and I'm fine with that. I just wanted to put that out there. I'm not going to play professionally, and I think we all knew that.
More and more, I'm thinking that school and I think in completly different ways. When I mentioned this to my mother, she said "Haven't you been thinking this for the past five years?" Uhh, no Mom, I haven't. I'm at the point where nothing at all feels like it applies to my life. School is not in the business of teaching me how to be a person or how to get what I want out of life or any of that, school is in the business of passing out diplomas. You jump through the right hoops, you become a robot that is good enough, and you go off and you're allowed to have a perfectly satisfactory life. That's fine, I guess.
I don't think I can handle living life that way.
But, of course, we already realized that.
The problem is the lack of middle ground. You live the consumerist, plastic life, or you reject it all and then you run off to Alaska and starve to death and have some fool write a book about you.
Ewww.
I don't want either of those. I'm not sure what I want, and that's what makes it so hard to reject this and fight for the things I believe in.
In other news, my art teacher told me to collect books of furniture that I like, so that when I go and work for someone like these people, I know what I want to make. I think this is a fantastic idea. All I need to do is go to King's.

Thinking about Stuff

When I capitalize the S in stuff, you know it's a big deal.
You shouldn't feel like you have to read this post. If I were you, I wouldn't. I would run the other direction, to some fanfiction. It will make you happy. In fact, there was this one fanfiction that took on a lot of cliches and should have been horrible, but something about the execution just made it perfect, just let me find you the link.
I saw Our Town today, and it made me get all teary-eyed. I've never cried at a play before, and I rarely cry at movies*, but this made me get teary eyed to the point where I would have been bawling had I not been concentrating very hard on not crying.
And it was all about living and being truly awake and I know that I just can't wake up, because waking up hurts and sleepwalking is so easy. And I think that maybe none of us really want to wake up. We might say we do, we might put in a half-hearted effort, but it's so comfortable to be asleep and to fit in with everyone else. I don't know if I want to think about every single moment, because that's just too much pressure. And maybe I'm running from something, and maybe I have nothing to run from at all and maybe I'm just an overdramatic whiny teenager who can never ever be taken seriously and maybe I'll never change. Maybe you'll never change either maybe that's a good thing maybe we should never get old and just stand here holding hands in the night air for hours on end and both thinking about the state of the world and not bothering to say anything because we are above words for now at least is it weird that I listen to Ira Glass and I have this short story called the yellow wallpaper open in another tab the only thing it makes me think about is the fact that some fool painted a bathroom at church a horrid yellow and when I think about that I lose a little bit of faith in humanity and a little bit of my eyesight oh no I can't lose my eyesight, then I'll end up like crazy old Milton and I'll dictate my words to you and make you write them down because that's why you're here, isn't it?
Gee, I feel like I'm channeling the crazy right now.
I wrote a little bit on The Steampunk Thing tonight. And by a little bit, I mean that it was somewhere between ten and one hundred words. We're not pullling a 10k night or anything here, but a part of me needs that kind of wild adreneline right now, so we're not ruling out a crazy writing night as a possibility. Doing crazy stupid things makes me feel awake.
I need to get my books for APUSH and work on the freeking drawing tomorrow. When I'm refreshing my blogger dashboard over and over tomorrow, waiting for a comment, this should remind me of what I should be doing**.

*Books, however, are another story. I think it has a lot to do with character development, in that I get very attached to certain characters.
**Yeah, I reread that sentence and puked.

Quote of the Month

"Everything we do is a choice. Oatmeal or cereal? Highway or side streets? Kiss her or keep her? We make choices and we live with the consequences. If someone gets hurt along the way, we ask for forgiveness. It’s the best anyone can do."

Ned, Pushing Dasies

The internet is mildly amazing.

Hello internet. I love your ability to make me laugh when I'm not particularly happy. I love your ability to make people question what is real, and what is unreal, but so perfect. Also, I love that you gave me Door Sixteen.

If I was seventeen

Okay, those are the lyrics to some song, but I can't remember the title or any of the other lyrics.
Sixteen looked like thisAnd thisAnd this (we have titled it "Samantha is a pretty little princess") Are you feeling the paleness? I'm feeling the paleness up in here.And finally, thisHow are we feeling about that hair? Both of my parents said it looked good, but I think it looks absolutely ridiculous. And, of course.I have also discovered that today is International No Diet Day. Did you have fun not dieting? I did. Also, Tony Blair's birthday and Give Samantha Balloons Day and The Day After Hank Green's Birthday Day. Were those good? Did you celebrate? I was celebrating all of them at the same time. Are you amazed yet?
This next picture is a big deal. It's me, at seventeen. Can you see the oldness on my face?*

Seventeen doesn't look that old, but it feels old. It feels really old. I'm an adult now. A legit adult, one who can buy tickets to R-rated movies and drive after midnight and do all sorts of crazy things. It's kind of amazing. I feel compelled to be something when I'm seventeen. What should I be? There's the whole...book situation, and then there's the art situation. When Harry was seventeen, he was saving the world. There's no pressure, no pressure.
*Please note that I was wearing the Communist Party shirt for most of my seventeenth birthday. This will be significant for posterity and such.

Wha wha what?

You've learned by now that it's easier not to ask.
Did everyone have a good Victory Day yesterday? I did. Anyway, there was no Fiction Friday last week. Why? Hadn't I written anything? Did Math and English suddenly get wildly interesting? No. Both of those statements are, thankfully, false. It's just that...the thing I wrote was bad. Terrible. I could be responsible for deaths, not because I really pulled on people's emotions, but because people threw themselves out of windows rather than read my zero-to-angst-in-two-hundred-words unfinished short story. You want an excerpt? Are you a masochist? Of course you are, of course you are, so you must want an excerpt.
"And i just want to get away from it right now, I want to scratch and slice my skin until I can't feel it anymore and then maybe, just maybe, it'll go away and I'll be alone and everything will be fine again like it hasn't been in a long time and I can do whatever I want. I'll be free, and I don't know quite how I'll handle it."
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go puke.

Well...Yeah.

I'm going to prom tonight. Today is the girliest single day of my life. Pictures will come later.
In other news, nom nom nom.