- Listener
WASTED YOUTH
my alter ego-loves you
2006 New York City plane crash, United States
deelanxcore
Detroit, TX
Aiden123lover
Camarillo, CA
V-Ger California
United States
8.11.08::I HAVE JUST RECENTLY UPDATED THIS PROFILE AFTER A YEAR ABSCENCE.
I AM SORRY FOR NOT GETTING BACK TO ALL OF YOU WHO LEFT COMMENTS, MESSAGES, AND REQUESTS. PLEASE TALK, OR ADD MY ON MYSPACE: WWW.MYSPACE.COM/ILLBREAKYOFACEX
Christina Elena Rodriguez.
I have lived 17 peculiar years.
I know I am strange, but I am also a people person.
I love and live for people.
My religion? I worship Mother Nature.
I don't have a group of friends, I make them as I go.
I am a Veggetarian, which goes on to tell you I have an odd taste in food.
I am a writer,
it is who i am,
not a hobby.
I lack desperately in the "love' department. I put that in quotes because like most people in my generation, I don't know what love is. And when I say desperately, that doesn't
mean that I am desperate. This topic could be a potential conversation anyway...
..
I have a giggling problem.
Any form of tea is an obsession.
If I have any sort of fashion sense, I don't know what I 'd call it..
I am a sucker for cuddling.
I am spontaneous. Fairly outgoing..
I pretend to have self confidence, only to then reassure myself and those around me that it is really at a whopping 0%.
I love photography.
I am honest and ironically blunt.
I hate politics and therefore will never vote.
I find beauty in awkward places.
I am anti-war.
I love the sun, however fall is my favorite season.
I am about to venture into the void of growing up.. no more high school.
I have a fascination with piece of shit, old-looking vehicles.
I love the environment, so if you litter make damn sure I don't know about it :]
I am extrememly and passionately open-minded. Gay rights, religion, you name it.
I would probably fall off this planet without music surrounding my ears most times of the day.
I love sarcasim and dry humor. I do not have a prefrence for the male species.
I like to have fun be it concerts, parties, movie nights, coffee nights, or one-to-one star gazzing conversations.
..
I secretly love to ghetto dance... shhh. I am a closet singer.
I Am My Own Asylum
I am my own asylum... I'd like to find a hole somewhere. I'd like to pick a fight somewhere. This passivness isn't working. I am chaotic, and I'm a mess. I was waiting for the future, when I really want to cease time. I am learning so many things. I am reading people, and I'm not liking what I've seen. 13 minutes. Have you ever created a version of yourself? An equal, but not equal. I have many sides, many attributes. I am who I am, and I am still becoming. I feel like dancing, not your typical get down. I want to dance freely, with no boundaries, no steps. And that is how I want to live. This sky has consumed my soul. Black and White. Grey. Grey is where I hide. I could walk forever, care to join me? Texting is becoming an awful addiction. Swore it wouldn't and using my thumbs to relay a message got the best of me. Milk It. I do not eat. Not anorexia. I just do not think about it, no hunger. My hunger lies with listening to and examining life. Music. And when I do eat, I choose the non-healthiest of foods. Ironic. I am my own asylum... Crazy people aren't crazy. It's pure eccentricity. Psycotics. Hypnotics. I want to hold your hand, yes you. I don't give a fuck if you understand my mind, or accept it. But in some ways I do. A whirpool of confusion. And endless question. This is where I stand, Sit. Lay... Insecure. Unsure. Pass the pipe, pass the pencil. Could you ask for more? I shant. I just want to be statisfied. And satisfication is either diminishing, or just not approaching fast enough.
I Am My Own Asylum
I am my own asylum... I'd like to find a hole somewhere. I'd like to pick a fight somewhere. This passivness isn't working. I am chaotic, and I'm a mess. I was waiting for the future, when I really want to cease time. I am learning so many things. I am reading people, and I'm not liking what I've seen. 13 minutes. Have you ever created a version of yourself? An equal, but not equal. I have many sides, many attributes. I am who I am, and I am still becoming. I feel like dancing, not your typical get down. I want to dance freely, with no boundaries, no steps. And that is how I want to live. This sky has consumed my soul. Black and White. Grey. Grey is where I hide. I could walk forever, care to join me? Texting is becoming an awful addiction. Swore it wouldn't and using my thumbs to relay a message got the best of me. Milk It. I do not eat. Not anorexia. I just do not think about it, no hunger. My hunger lies with listening to and examining life. Music. And when I do eat, I choose the non-healthiest of foods. Ironic. I am my own asylum... Crazy people aren't crazy. It's pure eccentricity. Psycotics. Hypnotics. I want to hold your hand, yes you. I don't give a fuck if you understand my mind, or accept it. But in some ways I do. A whirpool of confusion. And endless question. This is where I stand, Sit. Lay... Insecure. Unsure. Pass the pipe, pass the pencil. Could you ask for more? I shant. I just want to be statisfied. And satisfication is either diminishing, or just not approaching fast enough.
No One Read My Messes Anymore
No one reads my messes anymore... If I know one thing, I know that I want to capture the truth, the decrepit, the pain, the heart, and the soul into each pixel, behind a lense. I would say that this is beyond satisfying. Satisfaction... Is it a possibility that I can find some way to make someone satisfied, happy without the issue of a figment, or idea of love being the brickwall, or, beyond any physical pleasure as the only source of a legit connection? That triggers me to mention that I appreciate the relationships I do have with people, but I do question them. I have mentally seperated myself from becoming at all comfortable with commitment. I have specifically sealed off the ends to the "love" box in my brain. I am in disbelief of its existence. I don't care to grasp the term too much. Is it inhumane? I am able to feel. I am able to fathom the feeling of pleasure and accord in someone's arms. I have had bantam experiences of comfort with a significant/insignificant being. I have an obvious phobia. How will I know when it really hits me? Will I want it to? I have heard from others that it is the best and worst thing that you could ever posess. I blame my past commitments and devoted time to unappreciative people for my disfigured outlook on just what love is or could potentially hold for me. I am tired of making seemingly perfect connections with those who are lost, fresh out of relationships, lustful, confused, and broken. Come one folks. Again, I am not ashamed of whatever it is I share with certain people. But the teasing, the confusion is too much to deal with. It just results in a bruised heart. And I bruise easily. The connections fade as my years of life unfold and domino away before my eyes. I love people, human existence, mankind. I am passionate about aiding to the survival of beauty in all of humanity. The disappointing fact: No one gives a shit. The truth is, I will eat you alive. With love. I know this love. I comprehend my passion, my virtues, my beliefs. This love differs from complete consecration, being "in love." I do not believe in the saying, "never look back." I refute immenesley. How could you never look back? One, the past and reflecting on it, sculpts who we are and who we have yet to become. Two, in a physical sense, curiousity leaves us no choice but to jerk our heads and get that one last still frame inbedded to our minds on just what it is we are in the midst of leaving behind. I write these things for me. I write out of passion and despair. Out of angst and boredom. I think constantly. No one reads blogs these days, or at least mine. Shall I give up on analyzing every single thing I encounter, and every obstacle?... I wouldn't know how to do that even if I tried. Contemplation is my sleeping pill. Prose is the glass of water to wash it down. For now, I am going to enjoy and savor this warm slice of cinnamon swirl bread. Chai Tea? Sure, I'd love some. I speculate. What will be my next life-evaluating composition? My near-future self-examining instrumentation? Will Christina Elena Rodriguez ever unearth the answers to the ceasless questions seeping through eah nerve, every pore, each day, and every night? Perhaps so, perhaps my questions are perpetually unsolved. Hold my hand will you? It is going to be a long, strange ride.
Trashy Trash
Trashy Trash I am not sure what is about to spew from the tips of my fingers, through the keys and gently placed upon this screen...but I am in a journalistic sort of mood per say. I have become vaugely in tune with myself at the moment. Yes, I just watched Mallrats. That really doesn't have anything to do with my tune-age but I really love that movie. If I were to walk for as long as I possibly could without water, and or food, or music...But just the sound of human species interacting, and quite possibly my own voice be it thinking aloud, or singing a song to keep me a-going, where would I end up? Would I be in a state of peace or happiness? Would I be disappointed? Dead? Liberated? Captured...by a man, a tree, the wind..an army? I think that I want to do it Forrest Gump style minus the running aspect, which really, the running makes that moiety in the movie pretty epic and meaningful...But I would walk, simply because I felt the need to. Will you really know me for as long as I could imagine? What kind of people will find me attractive? Not just physically, but personally and mentally.. I have discovered habitually that I am fairly and or completely deranged, estranged, and a rearranging could do me some justice. I miss the hero part of my father. I miss his complete 90's esc and stuck-in-those-times-eternally lifestyle. He is the complete definition of 90's wasted youth. And I would fit right in.Do mood rings really work, and if so, why the hell does purple have to mean you are horny? Ornery. That is I. I think that if a drum set could lay me, I would let it happen. Drummers get not nearly enough recognition, I think. I mean seriously, the bass to the entire compilation of sounds conveniently constructed into and orgasmic array of melody, lyrics, and emotion? Nothing like it. Save a drum, bang a drummer right? I wish I wasn't afraid to be de-flowered the right way, sometimes..I mean getting fucked in the backseat of someone's vehicle isn't nessecarily the "right way," but it certainly beats getting raped., and nevertheless, you lose your virginity and in a willing fashion. How's that for being blunt? I am sure that by now you are utterly fed up with my endlessly and incorrectly linked questions and issues. I have a spontaneous nature when it comes to thinking terms. Intellectual. That is I. It is quite amusing how much I know about myself and how much I have yet to learn. As well as knowing some shit about myself, and still continuing to backslide from resolving issues and flaws. It is inevitable, I suppose. I have no idea how to describe myself. I am constantly wondering what people think of me, what they perceive and what in the Sam Hell I portray in their eyes. Ironically and altogether, I would never change who ever it is I am for anyone. is running with scissors really that big of a deal? I mean, if there isn't anyone around, who can you harm? And if you are thinking, "...well silly, you could fall on them and ultimately hurt yourself," I will retort by mentioning that if one is dumb enough to run with scissors with the possibility of falling and hurting themselves, does it really matter? I mean obviously, they do not give a fuck. And what if the 8-ball is right? What if what is bestows to you are the correct answers to your undying questions that one would ask the magic 8-ball? I don;t know about you but I think that the questions I ask to my 8-ball are relevant. For example, does this eyeliner work for my eyes? "Without a doubt." Is this coffee beverage worth recieving the bad-coffee-aftertaste? "Yes." Will this strangely attractive fella ask me out soon? "Reply hazy. Ask again later." ...To hell with you, magic 8-ball :| I pray that people will understand my state of mind. Actually, I do not. I am who I am and most people cannot relate. I suppose I will just have to deal. Most of the populationis clueless and idiotic. This is why I resort to writing and talking to my cat. Sometimes I converse with the sky. I wish I were apart of her. The sky has infinite beauty and I seem to get lost in it frequently. Some of these words are personal. And none of it is insignificant. Some of you may find out a few new things you never knew of me if you take anytime at all to read between the lines. Most of you will read this and discover that your vocabulary is elementary. Plently of you will rummage across my words and thoughts out of sheer boredom and not give two shits about what I am blogging. But I do love roller coasters. I enjoy long walks on the beach. Cigarettes pass the time. I do not have any real friends. Surely you can't be serious. I am serious, and don't call me Shirley. Sobe's Green Tea is quite thrist-quenching and I suggest giving it a shot. And I am entirely and not so much interested in your response that might have heart or might take you a whole two minutes to conjure up. Close your eyes and see the sky is falling. Love and Loathe, Christina Elena Rodriguez.
Pieces Of Peace
Pieces of Peace I am cuurently in a state of mind.. A state of mind to where I could most probably not be here. As I am sitting in baby's room, rummaging through the souls captured into the web I wonder when the next epiphany shall occur.. Do I deserve to make this better for myself? Must I confine myself to a small wooden box, with merely my breathing holes as my saviour? Is this the beggining, or is it the end... I want to breathe the ocean's fluctuations. I want the waves. The train is fading.. I need to be heard. I want to be saved. Escaping this narrow-minded town. Most are not worthy. I cannot find myself here. My magic hands need a companion, a friend. Go to sleep.
Sean Havenner (music)
hey hey hey!! have u checked out my music
yet??? www.purevolume.com/seanhavenner or
www.myspace.com/seanhavenner thanks hope to hear beack
from you soon!!!! THANKS SEAN :P i think u will really
like my music... based on what i have read of you
blogs!! there pretty deep and cool!!!!
posted May 16
Chodis
Haha, Noblesville aint that bad, try in the middle of
nowhere North Carolina. I kill to move back to carmel.
posted May 14
CuriousEars
your crazy. i like it. teehee
posted Sep 02
cozynubs
your cool and you are not the only person that has to
deal with boring indiana. southern indiana myself. add
me if want to
posted Aug 10
Karpenter's Kids
I haven\'t heard from you...but I\'m pretty sure
there\'s a reason, cause you don\'t seem mean or
anything...so be sure to write (or comment) me back
when you read this!!! cause you seem nice. :)
posted Aug 05
Sondays*Rawr!
Lovely hairr
posted Jul 31
billy the kid
hey im billy how are you? you have some nice music
posted Jul 01