Hi I'm Krysta

and I'm just going to post about how much my work sucks for the 5729384753847538572nd time today, like I have been everyday for the past month!

Don't mind me, just usin' my blogger like it's a twitter!

Ok, I'll post againn in... Oh 15 minutes!

Bye!

-------

x]

Alcohol

The wedding was great, had a lot of fun with the family.

The after party was better.

Reaaaaaallllyyyyyy drunk.

Now, I'm sitting alone in my house. It's pretty messy, and there is still
so
much
alcohol.

Guess who's getting drunk tonight!

I don't care if I'll be alone, it'll be casual drinking.

I mean, this is the perfect opportunity!

Anyway, thanks for your concern. I hope to speak to some of you soon. I'm kind of tired, went to bed at 3 yesterday night... Or this morning, what ever.

Now to fix myself a drink.

Talk to y'all soonz.


Too lazy to get a picture, or read over this post for mistakes.

Op. 82/N. 2 Prelude in E minor, movement 7, Allegro con forza e passione

Well it's a few days before the wedding, I'm excited really.

This blistering heat is being to kill me, I tell you. And this daunting sickness that plays the role of a teenage girl, in the sense of having ups and downs, is becoming bothersome - again, that of a teenage girl.

Everything is so stressful over here, really. Back yard weddings are hard.

Krysta is on a posting spree.
Sarah is returned.
Phil and Nikole are posting, but not so much Nikole.

The way the sun is setting tonight makes these summer trees look like they're covered in flames.

I thought the stress of the wedding would push me far apart from other people, and I'd take a lot of anger out on them, but surprisingly none of this has happened.

My mind is all over the place right now. Fuck the weather. But I know that, no matter what the temperature may be, there are still those fallen white board markers from the 19 + 8. They stay there, uncovered, hidden, but always ready when I need them. And when I do need them, they spring up with fire in their eyes, like one of Piazzolla's tango straight from 20th century Argentina.

That's thing about tangos, it's really interesting. Tangos encourage dissonance due to it's dark and enigmatic nature, but the baseline consists the same stable rhythm, whether that be dotted quarter note, eighth note, quarter note, quarter note, orrr, eighth note, quarter note, eighth note, quarter note, quarter note. Kind of like, the baseline, (such as the bassoon, yay us, phil!) is so detached to the rest of the piece, but so crucial. So the baseline might be somewhere distance, and far from the chaos of the melody, but without that baseline, the melody and inner voice leading would crumble like burnt toast. So all in all, the baseline is always there, and it doesn't matter how far the baseline is from the melody, the baseline will always keep everything together. No matter what, when, or where. Kind of like that rain on a hot night, or tea on a cold night. Or stars in the night sky, or a cool dry towel after a hot and steamy shower.

Yellow:
the sky,
is Orange.
you,
are Red.
Purple,
all over.
i won't
be Blue.

let's take off, in the blue

Oh would you look at that, Nikole blogged!

On a less surprising note, Krysta also blogged about being unhappy.

Sarah is in some foreign land.

SARAH, IF YOU CAN HEAR THIS, I REALLY DON'T NEED WOODEN SHOES!

Phillip, some of us are waiting for what "you'd tell us later" from your blog!

And here I am, fashionably late.


The wedding is coming up, I have much music to learn, with limited time. Hmpf. But, once that wedding is over, life will be clear sailing. Yay! After the wedding, I age another year, and get my G2, then the next big thing is grade 12 bitches! I think I'm going to not worry about a career after university, I'm just going to apply for lots of language based courses. I have a really really big urge to go into sciences, catch up there and have a career in pharmacy. Whaddya' guys think? I don't think I want to do law. But I would take music courses if I didn't have to play anything. Oh so much to decide.

Life is fucking amazing. Honestly, I love every second of it now - wether that be moving 10 tons of gravel across my drive way, or being with the ones I love. There is nothing I want more from this world then what I have now. Gah, I love it all, things like breathing are now so amazing. Or canned beans! Oh canned beans... <3

Oh I hear word report cards might be in. this means I need to find the mail key.

And do my chores and shits.

That is all - no picture, due to extreme need to find that mail key.

Nocturne

Last night.

This morning.

I was Florence.

I left, leaving only a note and a banana peel.

I walked with knife in hand, Debussy in the other.

Moonlight.

The cars were bright, loud.

They failed to stop me - I had a mission.

He waited.

The roads were long, scary and pitch black as far as the eye could see.

I cried under the orange lamp post.

I had my signs mixed up.

The screech of a car turned me around, and I ran.

My thin right arm had that knife.

Ready to kill any dangers, except the ones in my head.

The butler was long, but he was waiting for me.

He knew what I wanted, and led me there.

He was there, waiting with a bologna sandwich and earl grey tea.

I traded a knife for a letter.

Under the stars, Jupiter shined for us.

He knows me too well.

I slept, there I was loved.

Despite running 11km from the place of my growth,

I've never felt so at home.

The sun rose.

The time doubled.

We stared into the innocence of white.

We found our plan.

Sneaky, yes.

It took only half the time to return.

The bicycle helped.

That night, that sleep, was in my mind while rushing down Joanisse.

Now the evidence rests at the house of lambs.

I walk to my fate, as if preparing to face my guillotine.

But this time, I will smile.

I may be alone when I smile,

but I will smile.