we sing to the dogs or whoever

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My lips have cola on them, and I swallow the fizz to sooth my aching throat. I guess you could say I'm always sick. Or you could use a translator, and it might say,... I'm a constant complainer.  If my heads not pounding, my tummy is sore. If my tummy isn't sore, I've got a runny nose.  Me and my health, it's a never ending story. But I'm seeing doctors, and I'm taking steps. I'm running, and I'm sleeping, and I'm cooking veggies, and I'm bathing in fruit, and I'm stretching the paths of my brain, until my body becomes healthy again.  I mean, at the end of the day, what else is there to do? You can try to be healthy in your soul. You can try to be healthy in your bones.  And sometimes it's not enough.

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The sun played with my cheeks yesterday. And painted them rosy. Today, there is no sun. The clouds darken the highways, and the oak trees draw no shadows. I'm feeling stretched by worries, and unforgiving to-do lists.  Life hands me lists, and today is a paint-by-numbers-kind-of-day. I'm just painting numbers, filling lines, I'm not allowed to think, or freely draw my day. There is life to be undone, and my journey needs progress. There's school to finish. There's risks to take. There's parties to attend. There's wine to be drank. There's money to be made.  There's a good life awaiting. There's a sun peek-a-booing behind the clouds. I just need to learn how to hug bad days.

 Let bad days go away. Let the sun shine on my cheeks again!

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I must tell you. Everyday, I'm learning.  Learning shades of the sky
, learning the myriad complexity of emotions, learning how to walk on marshmallows, learning how to be Amy.  Life is grand, and sorrowful, and beautiful,  and enchanting. I'll unbuckle this seatbelt that's keeping me from, well, me.  I'll always be learning, but it's time I start living. Not living for my teachers, or the friends who meet me by the bay, not for the loved ones who whisper sweet nothings, and certainly not for those who wrinkle my soul. It's time to put on my selfish head, and transform into a shellfish.

I will continue, and forever, sprinkle love onto others like table salt at supper.
But I'll wake up with the purpose, and that purpose will be for me. Amy. ^_^

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Love doves, and my shining lights, It's Halloween! I must stop dwelling! I'm done being a hummmmbug. There's pumpkins to carve, and vampires to greet, and witches to chase. It's a lovely time of year. A time for candy apples, and caramel corn. It's the only time of year you can get away with being something your not. So I'm dressing as a baseball player.... and I'm drinking tea, and wine, and casting shadows with candlelight. I'll be kissing werewolves, and laughing. Oh, I'll be laughing.

What are you dressing up as? Do tell!

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dress; value village $6
sweater; winners $20
hat; H&M $13
shoesies; winners $40

teen vogue best dressed reader !!

I awoke to the most pleasant email today.... Teen Vogue said I had won best dressed reader for October 29.
Suddenly, new york city-bright lights filled my bedroom,
and I started dancing.

I am tickled, and honored, thank you thank you thank you teen-vogue.


I am nothing if I am just one

but if we were two, I tell you what I would do
I’d lay you down and blow out the sun..

Happy Tuesday lovebirds, and fellow salad roll lovers. What kinda groove are you in?
I've just spent the past 6 hours of a precious life, 6 hours I'll never get back, 6 hours closer to my imminent departure, doing nothing other than studying. Hello time lines, and essays, and boring words filling boring spaces. But merci to a slice of cinnamon-sprinkled bread, and my day begins again!

So it's 5 in the afternoon. The puppies of the house are chewing, and burying their bones. They live such a simple life. So carefree, like the wind around me.  I'd like to be a puppy. Running around the house, making messes, fetching frisbee, barking at strange postmen, peeing everywhere(okay maybe not)... But the simplicity of a puppies life is one to envy.  If I was a puppy, I could bring cheeky smiles, and warm bellies to everyone I greet.
Being a puppy. It must be nice.

Today is Tuesday.  Tuesday is my day of live music, and tea drinking. There's a local tea house that hosts an open mic every Tuesday evening.   The magic of the music is a cure to any ailment. Right now, I've got stomach aches, head aches, eye aches, throat aches. So many aches. Pills don't cure me, sleep hasn't cured me, love doesn't cure me.  The only cure is a guitar-bent man/woman singing with their hearts and making fire.

I want to shake my tambourine. Ramble through song. And be alive through the sound of my own singing voice. But whenever I've tried to do this, the only thing that shakes is me.

I admire the rusty voice, the angelic, the pleasant, the deafening, the "i'm going to sing-no matter who's listening" and the "i'm not singing for you"     I admire the guts, and poise it requires to sing for a crowd. Maybe one day, in a dream land, I'll be singing words for you. 
Until that day, I'll just be listening and writing poetry.

Thank you for your love! kisses kisses hugs hugssss

I hold you to my chest like a charm
I hold you to keep you warm
and you are so small, you’re like nothin’ at all
like you were born to be in my arms

$5 seashell cropped top; forever 21
$6 floral suspenders; wet seal
$40 dad's zara hat
$80 the bay laced up bootie
$15 black skirt; trend clothing


leave comments on previous post !!
always in my heart. <33

may all these weeds be wildflowers.

The world is turning, and I'm wearing pants. In general, I find pants boring, unflattering, and they don't sing to the tune of my hips, quite like skirts do. But I believe in experimentation, and I've recently discovered an appreciation for pants. More than anything, I have a desire to wear all of the garments in my closet. I have so many blouses, shawls, jackets, skirts, pants, accessories, so many outfits that have been dormant like the apple tree in winter.  Are you like this? You buy a shining blouse, bring it into your wardrobe, and 3 months later, you finally wear it because you forgot it existed? This is my fashion-life story. I'm working on changing this. The pattern of buying, forgetting, wearing, forgetting, it has to stop. it has to stop.

I began writing for this post in a Cafe on 17th avenue.  Elton was rockin' tiny dancer, and the streets were a library. You learn so much about the way of people, just by watching them.  All of the hours spent in malls, day-gazing at park benches, eyes open at airport arrivals, all of these hours have helped me to understand the beauty. Too many declare people-watching as vile, rude, ignorant.. 

But to me, people watching is a fuzzy peach, a can of corn. It's not tasteless.

People watching is an act that causes us to think.    Have you ever met someone who spoke of museums, libraries, books, and poems to be bad/tasteless/awful things? Neither have I.

without me watching, without you being watched. with no people-looking. There would be no museums, no books, no libraries.   If we never knew to watch an old man in a tuxedo parade through the streets, a young woman on her bike, a mother and her crying baby. If we didn't see these things, we'd be blind. We'd only feel the tones, variations and rhythms of our own lives. We wouldn't be so vast. We wouldn't be so curious. And the books that we read would be missing their pages. 

when I spend time people watching. I feel like I see through my own eyes into someone else's life. I begin to feel what it might be like to live through someone elses body.  
and then I can write a poem, or a story about it.

The sad poetry I write isn't always a creation of my own blues,
just as my happy poetry isn't limited to my own smile,
I think I'm a writer because I'm a watcher. 

But hey, I'm just rambling around.
Now, I'm gazing through magazine scans of Korean fashion. The styles are full of camel, and pastel colors. Flowing lacy tops are adorned with bows, and chunky knits drape over flowered-covered dresses. Everything is  intricate, but more importantly, everything is cute.   There's a china town where I live, and it's full of Japanese and Korean fashion outlets..  I've dreamed of purchasing a dress, or pants, or top, so far I've only gotten butterfly boots from my boyfriend.  (I need to quit spending.. but..) My birthdays in a month, and I'm thinking, a day exploring in China town, shopping in cutesy stores, and finishing it all with a platter of sushi, sounds like a happy birthday.  

MUCH LOVVVVVVVVVVVVE TO YOU ALL! happy weekend....xoxo

blouse; thrifted/japanese
necklace; aldo accesories $15
trousers; thrifted $7
booties; the bay $80

anyhow, i love you.

I have no advice for anybody; except to, you know, be awake enough to see where you are at any given time, and how that its beautiful, and there's poetry inside. Even places you hate.

A person who has good thoughts cannot ever be ugly. You can have a wonky nose and a crooked mouth and a double chin and stick-out teeth, but if you have good thoughts it will shine out of your face like sunbeams and you will always look lovely. 


dancing riddles, casting a spell.
watching the world beside me,
in my window sill.

working on an outfit post...
this outfit post is a little different..than most..
hint...i'm not wearing a skirt or dress...
(and i'm not naked.)

happy sailing :)

biscuit crumbs and bird seeds

I woke up alive today. The sun is on my coat, and the birds are tickling the earth with their feathers.
I'm drinking lemon water... finishing dreaded math studies.

Some people are allergic to dust. Some people are allergic to biscuits. I'm allergic to Math. When math is in the room, never do sneeze, nor do I cough. It's worse than that. . . .  As I pry my textbooks open, my throat closes in, my stomach tightens, and suddenly the monster inside of me is tickling my tongue. I begin spewing hate, I curse and I curse, I cry and I cry. Too often, time is spent wandering through the forests of "why"... Why do I need to know the circumference of a circle? I'm not interested in carpentry. Why do I need to know the degree of angle AB? I'm not interested in architecture.   Why? The world tells me that enrichment is why.   I just can't fathom what's enriching about crying over line segments?    

Sometimes, only sometimes,
I feel like the world is full of boxes I don't fit in...

On a more sugary note.. Today, I am happy. The world's not spinning. No longer do I feel like the wind, annoying people as I pass. I feel like the sun, dancing, and filling those I pass with yellow bursts of love. 

This was my dress up for cirque du soliel! I can't find the language, or words, or verses to express how magical cirque du soliel is. All I can say is that the mind I had before the show, is not the mind that I have now.  The beginning of the show begins with a boy fighting the wind, trying to fly his kite. By the end of the show, with the way of imagination, his kite begins to fly. I thought of my blog. I thought of your love.

Here's a review I found:
"The plot was original, dramatic and flowed seamlessly from act to act. The music was bold and and fit the action perfectly! But was really stood out was the actual performance! WOW!!! The gymnasts were bending their bodies in ways I never knew a human body could, the unicyclist could dance better on his one wheel than I could with both feet and dancing lessons, and the juggler was simply outstanding!"

Need I say more?

sweet kisses to you all !

skirt; forever 21 $5
blouse; urban outfitters $20
shoesies; superstore $15
jacket; ross for less $20


all speckled with stars

Hello to you Sunday,  I've got frozen fingers. The air in my room is turning my house into an igloo, and one of the voices inside of my head is telling me to light a fire.  Suddenly, I'm not so fascinated about the changing seasons.

My week was inharmonious. Monday brought bad news. Tuesday brought stomach aches. Wednesday brought tests.Thursday brought tears. It as was if there were wild spirits dancing around me.
Instead of their usual way of plucking guitar strings, the spirits played tricks,
And my heart strings got the plucking.

By Friday's morning light, I turned into a weekender, and suddenly the air brought my head harmony. I keep wishing on shooting stars that life was always guitar strings, faux fur, carrot cake, and sharing bonds with benevolent, beautiful, people.

But my head's been falling asleep before moon light. And I've neglected the night sky.

My fingers,  my tongues, and my frozen toes are crossed.
Crossed for a better week. Crossed for the night-sky gazing. Crossed for more smiles from me to the world.

Love to you all !!

 Though my soul may set in darkness, It will rise in perfect light,
I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night........

tights; forever 21 $13
shoesies; rocket dog/winners $50
dress; forever 21 $11
bra strap made into headband
faux fur- thrift ed value village