hi, my name is sarah jessica parker. i wear couture every day and i spend 40,000 dollars on shoes alone in a year. i have my own column in the new york times which then became a book and it made me 25000 in a month. i own a cozy little apartment and i cannot cook. i only date boys who have houses in the hamptons or paris and have drivers who take them around in bentleys and i sleep with whomever i want. i am also popular and i party with the girls all the time. i have 3 best gal pals who are just like me. except one of them doesnt work at all, ones a pretigious PR and the other is a kick ass lawyer. life is good. and everyone wants to be like me.

...

yea, thats why idiots like me are addicted to sex and the city. she lives the fantasy life.. in my opinion.. of being cmpletely autonomous and as individualistc as she wants. there is no traditional push and pulls, no religion, no social pressure whatsoever(except not to wear scrunchies in public), nor does she need to watch her weight despite so much cake, martinis and junkfood. oh sigh, the jealousy.

then again, its the fantasy that keeps me watching.

the fantasy of being independent, carefree and confident, on a "chic" journey to find "all consumming, inconvinent, cant-live-without-you love". ironic thing is.. thats when the shit happens.

once again, on being beautiful.


everyday.


capulet and montague.


an ollldddd picture i took

http://www.julietmartin.com/ - simply genius!!

Random thoughts from 2:23pm - 2:55pm, 13th March 2006.

i have been told so many times that i might be asking too much out of life. the funny thing is.. that never struck me until yesterday, talking to ronald (r1). for a split second i experienced a jolt of dejavu, names of peole flooding my head, suddenly fully aware that was far from the first time it has been said to me.

i always considered that a good thing, a drive that might somehow land me into wonderful exciting spots. i remember telling myself since i was a little kid, that once i am 17/18, i would be carelessly unwise, nonchalant, seeking and moving from life's perk to another, happily wedged between understanding and mastering the world. but of course, things never happen as planned.

i am 2 years over due and im still waiting.

did i grow too fast that i missed those moments? did my desire to devour everything ironically caused me to miss my stop? or does the hurt and decaying self-worth come from nostalgia for something that never existed? or does it come from my helplessness and powerlessness, and struggle to suffocate myself and become someone else? the contradictions of my personality?

maybe it is just all my fault.

....

labels are thrown at me. i admit to one thing, beleive in another and i am called a hypocrite. i hate being the unpredictability of being in love, but i am in love with love. i call myself a feminist, but i worry about looking like a female fat ass. i scorn bimbos, but damm do i love those dior bracelets. superficiality. pretentiousness. people become means to an ends for each other. give each other labels, smile and pretend otherwise and use the labels for whatever reason.

....

what is love?

is love having no expectations or having them satisfied?

is love found in constant excitement and maintained novelty, or familiarity and reciprocity?

is love allowing to be hurt, or being allowed to hurt?

does love carry us through all the tough times, or is love about making each time good?

....

people tell me my thinking is gonna kill me soon enough. and i agree. we are but human, they say. flawed beings and bodies. then why make that ideal? why the concept of perfection? why do we judge? why do we bleed each other? a mechanism of control? what control? who? why?

why must i care? why would i bother? why do i fear? why do i cry? why do i laugh? why do i love? why do i dread? why do i anticipate? why can't i just be alone? why do i live?

why dont i want to live?

Almost Doesn't Count - Brandy

Almost made you love me
Almost made you cry
Almost made you happy, baby
Didn't I didn't I
You almost had me thinkin
You were turned around
But everybody knows
Almost doesn't count

Almost heard you saying
You were finally free
What was always missing for you, baby
You found it in me
But you can't get to heaven
Half off the ground
Everybody knows
Almost doesn't count

I can't keep on lovin' you
One foot outside the door
I hear a funny hesitation
Of a heart that's never really sure
Can't keep on tryin'
If you're looking for more
Than all that I could give you
Than what you came here for

Gonna find me somebody
Not afraid to let go
Want a no doubt be there kind of man
You came real close
But everytime you built me up
You only let me down
And everybody knows
Almost doesn't count

Maybe you'll be sorry
Maybe you'll be cold
Maybe you'll come runnin' back, baby
From the cruel cruel world
Almost convince me
You're gonna stick around
But everybody knows
Almost doesn't count

So maybe I'll be here
Maybe I'll see ya 'round
That's the way it goes
Almost doesn't count

toss me into a whirl whenever you please.. and then leave me hanging.

this is what i call.... scanner art.

i am back into my tori amos / skunk anansie / (old)alanis morrisette moods these days..

moody, angry, lonely and a tad helpless.

again.

anyway, who has time for this anyway?

Hedonism - Skunk Anansie- gotta love her

I hope you're feeling happy now
I see you feel no pain at all it seems
I wonder what you're doin' now
I wonder if you think of me at all
Do you still play the same moves now
Or are those special moods
For someone else
I hope you're feeling happy now.

Just because you feel good
Doesn't make you right
Just because you feel good
Still want you here tonight

Does laughter still discover you
I see through all those smiles
That look so right
Do you still have the same friends now
To smoke away your
Problems and your life
Oh how do you remember
Me the one that made
You laugh until you cried
I hope you're feeling happy now

I wonder what you're doing now
I hope you're feeling happy now