I think I've done enough intellectual stuff. Let's copy other people and talk about clothes!

I really like the idea of doing these, so I think I'm going to do these once a season along with a Challenge. Pre-season and mid-season sound good?

So, my first thing is the beaded purse. Since I was a little kid, I've always loved the look of extravagant beading on handbags. They add an instant pop to any outfit, like a bright lipstick color and are always cute. These are generally better when they're vintage, and vintage abything is awesome, right?

Printed scarves are both cute accessories and a convinient necessity during winter in New York. A cute print goes adorably with any monochromatic top or dress, and if a thin silk tie will make you two degrees warmer, think about the promise of warmth from a thick scarf tied around your neck. W-A-R-M.

Third is a pair of heeled black boots. I recently acquired a pair similar to these, only with a chunkier heel that will be easier to walk in. I personally think that mid-calf is a great length, but up to the knee is fine. For taller boots, I don't care for wedges, and I think that a thick heel is a great compromise.

In my school, tops that show off a bit of the midriff are the style the way leggings were two years ago. It just so happens to be that I have an impressively flat stomach for someone whose main diet consist of chips and seltzer. I wholeheartedly approve of this, as long as it doesn't go up higher than the belly button. Avoid the belly button in general. the lace on this one adds a cute, classier touch, as well.

I love sparkles. I am a total sparkle girl, and am so glad that they're in stores. Sparkles are a bold statement that oozes with confidence. Honestly, I can't tell you why, other than SPARKLES ARE AMAZING LIKE PIE.

Once more, a huge trend in my area of education are these skirts. Once again, a flat stomach aids here because the skirts are really tight. Pencil skirts are a big part of the fashion world for older women, and by shrinking them and adding ruffles and whatnot makes this a sophisticated look that is still attractive and youthful.

Belts with cute designs on them are the new graphic tees. Now that most shirt's'll be cut off by the top of the pants, belts will be visible. The only one I have, everyone knows, I wear at least once a week, religiously.

Lastly, I love dresses. Everyone knows I love dresses. And one like this, with a simple, yet cute pattern is perfect for going out and going to school. When something is cinched at the waist, it automatically becomes figure-flattering. And I like dresses like I like sparkles. :)



Today, along with this, I will be doing Challenge Numero 19: Nicknames you have, and why you have them.

Well, I think we all know my name is Kimberly, and my nicknames are simple things like Kim, and Kimmy, which are obviously just shortened versions of my name.

The one nickname I have that has a backstory is Kimja. Besides being a total ninja, I got it for answering a really hard question in my 8th Grade Social studies class, in full detail, within five seconds of the question being asked. This was during a competitive review game that was not unlike Jeopardy. Someone called out "Way to go Kimja!" I started the blog soon afterwards, and the nickname just stuck.

So, KIMJA!

I l♥ve...

You're beautiful, honey.

I love the way that light gleams in your eyes when you're excited. I love how you clap your hands and jump around. I love how quirky you are, and all of the things that make you so fucked up. I love how dedicated you are to what, and who you love. I love how amazing you are everyday, and I love how funny you are.

I love the way your hair curls. I love your deep thoughts on the subjects I'm too afraid to explore, and I love how romantic you are. I love the spazzy noises you make. I love hearing you sing. I love the face you make with your eyes and nose scrunched. I love how beautiful you are, and how you always seem to know the better road for me, even when you;re unsure yourself

I love how you give your all to me. I love how we talk for hours, and how my parents love you, too. I love how you'd do these crazy things to make me feel better. I love how you have an opinion, and even if I disagree, that it is always in my best interests. I love how we harass my teacher, and how we switch sweatshirts. I love how we wander aimlessly for hours, and I love how you give me purpose. I love how when I feel like I should be protecting you, you make sure I'm safe and happy first.

I love how you look everyday. I love how you hold me at the waist. I love how your hands feel on my back, and I love the sound of your voice. I love your name, and I love that quarter-inch of brunette fuzz on your head. And I love your face<3

Too bad I'm not in love with you.

But, the other three, do you know who you are?

Honesty, Talent, Professionalism, and Friendship.

I find it disturbing that our society is one based on fantasy. You don't believe me, see movies, books, and other media outlets that show people getting what they want. This varies from things like love and acceptance to freedom and the appreciation someone with talent deserves.

However, this is rarely the case. Parents encourage their children to do anything they wish, and I hate to be the cynic, but most of the time they can't. To quote an old episode of George Lopez, "There's only one president, but there are millions of factory workers." And I couldn't agree more. I think one of the biggest mistakes that parents make is the mistake of misguiding their children. I hear so many little girls say they want to be singers when they grow up, and I'll hear them sing one note and know that they don't have the voice to sell hundreds of thousands of records. Of course, at 5 years old there is so much time for development and improvement, and I'd never break a little girl's heart like that, but when you reach my age you should know, chances are slim.

There are going to be people who will say, "Screw her; I can do it, I can do it." And I absolutely respect that. I just don't want people to be mislead into thinking that everything will fall perfectly into place because if it doesn't these people are left alone and lost and confused, which helps no one. Why do you think there are so many homeless people in Hollywood. Because there are ten thousand auditions and only one lead role.

I've seen some people who think that they are so accomplished in what they do because no one has ever had the heart to tell them, "This isn't actually your forte." And to do that to a kid, a high school kid, is the worst thing that you can do. What if you get someone who's spent his whole life being told. "Nice job, hun!" when he actually has the vocal abilities of a bullfrog? He'll go for something legit, a Broadway role, or something in a movie or audition for a band and be told, "You can't sing for shit." That person has spent his whole life being lied to, and now the one thing that he has focused all of his energy on is now useless. What if it's too late to learn how to do anything else?

My point? Be honest. There are ways to be honest without being outright nasty. Be gentle with language and use a respectful tone. It isn't "You can't sing for shit," rather, "The range wasn't good for you." Unless, of course, you are the professional. But as friend, don't tell a lie to spare feelings, because you are being asked for a reason. Be honest, not misleading.

Day #15. Of What? Read, baby...

Remember that shiteous fail called the 30-day Photo Challenge? I have made it a goal to finish that, in any order I want, by the end of the year. I mean, if the point of it is to express your individuality, then why not make your own rules. Oh yeah, I'm pretty revolutinary.



This is me and my hideously cracked iPod Touch (I'm praying for the new iPhone! I'd put it to such good use and take wayy better care of it than I have this ol' guy.) I will be using it to do the original Day 15-- Put it on shuffle and share the first ten songs that play.

Here's we goess!

1) Billy Joel, Big Shot
2) Thriving Ivory, Flowers For A Ghost
3) Justin Timberlake feat. T. I., My Love
4) Nirvana, Polly
5) Justin Nozuka, Save Him
6) Eminem, Hailie's Song
7) Bon Jovi, I'd Die For You
8) Matchbox 20, Disease
9) Andrea Bocelli, Con Te Partiro
10) Sinedown, Second Chance

Out of 1105 songs, I got lucky to have such epic ones. Especially when I have a good amount of CASCADA on here, from when I was younger and a conformist, LOL.

I'm thinking my next one will be either # 28 or #29

Definitions of the most abstract things

Have you noticed that the most abstract ideas in the world are the hardest to define? So, I'm going to give you ten ideas and I'm going to define them myself. If you try to define them YOURSELF, rather than using my words verbatim, you'll see that it is difficult.

1) Freedom: The liberation caused by the obliteration of force from a socially accepted "higher power."

2) Goodness: The use of morals to make decisions that positively impact the life of oneself and/or the lives of others.

3) Evil: The misuse of mental or physical properties resulting negatively for others, either physically or mentally.

4) Loyalty: Acts involved in defending and caring for a person, place, government type, etc.

5) Faith: Confidence and trust placed into someone or something that may or may not come to be physically seen by man, or is not proven scientifically.

6) Individuality: People who refuse to conform to social normalities.

7) Maturity: The ability to take responsibility on oneself either for his/her own actions or for the betterment of others.

8) Intelligence: The capability to expand thoughts, impressions, and ideas without much difficulty.

9) Society: A social group combined to make advances in all areas of study to influence the human population to strive for more.

10) Love: The reason that anyone does anything for another; the bond of society, a deep emotion that inspires the postivity of al of the aforementioned. Something we all deserve.

"Love is overrated, The Script is underrated."

My latest music craze has been with the Irish band, The Script. They've been around for a while, like Thriving Ivory had been when I did my post about them a few months ago.

You probably know them from their singles "The Man Who Can't Be Moved," "For The First Time," and mainly, "Breakeven." I guarantee you've heard at least one before.

Their most recent album, Science & Faith is a lovely collaboration of heartbreaking lyrics and lush meaning. I must admit, the album is comprised entirely of breakup/broken heart songs, save one. But I won't focus exclusively on Science & Faith.

The band can cover every genre, from angsty love ballads to hip-hop-esque choruses to mainstream pop, and jazzy feel-good tunes, thanks to the adaptable smooth voice of the rather delicious lead singer Danny O'Donoghue.

Did I mention they wrote Kris Allen's hit song "Live Like We're Dying"? Because that song is amazing. They are clever songwriters with lyrics that are more than meaningless choruses, and they have yet to corrupted into a band that subliminally encourages less-than-stellar behavior the way songs like "Love the Way You Lie" and "I Like It" and even and especially "Bad Romance" do. (Hey! I love all of those songs, I'm just saying, getting drunk, cheating, and absuing your significant other aren't behaviors to follow. Showing someone how much you love them totally is.)

I think that their emphasis on the heart, and the breaking of such a precious object is important. We all know what happened to me recently, so maybe it's convenient for me, but I've always loved the emotional afterthoughts on a relationship. I've had my fair share of emotional trials of the heart. being dumped on my birthday and half-cheated on, to name a couple. Nothing's okay on a person and they honestly portray the real-life situations, like making a fool of yourself as you stumble about town, looking for that someone. It isn't the fake shit that you see in movies.



Now, after showing you a dramatic band photo, it's time for my favorite part!

What's that, you ask?

LYRICS!

"Tried to break my heart/ Well it's broke/ Tried to hang me high/ Well I'm choked/ Wanted rain on me/ Well I'm soaked/ Soaked to the skin" --The End Where I Begin

"Now I'm looking up the Bible/ Trying to find a loophole" --Rusty Halo

"Oh, please don't be so naive/ Don't wait till your heart bleeds/ Love wasn't built for speed, listen to me girl/ He keeps fuckin' with your head, tryna get you into bed/ And in the morning you'll just hate yourself" --Fall For Anything

"And it hurts so bad/ That I search my skin/ For the entry point/ Where love went in/ And ricocheted/ And bounced around/ And left a hole when you walked out" --Exit Wounds

And there I leave you, with the important task of getting your butt on YouTube and iTunes because "love is overrated, The Script is underrated."

The Review of GRIT I Promised Y'all

GRIT is a novel that a good friend of mine, Samantha Nyx of

I fucking hate that thing, you know. Damn link thing never works.

But whatever.

GRIT the the intense story of a girl who has been physically and mentally tortured for years by the American government for the murder of her brother. Which she committed using only the power of her own mind. Now, six years later, Sarah McClair has been in the custody of two people forbidden to even use her name. In a new school where she sticks out, she manages to get an equally intelligent girl, Lacey, with the street-smarts she never got the chance to develop. With the hacker-help of Lacey's brother Reese, Sarah sets out to free herself from the government's control over her.

Yes, this is a story my friend wrote, but I'm not just saying I loved it because of that. Intense escape thrillers that warp the government are rarely my thing. Only in the movie PUSH, and The Hunger Games. Oh, who am I kidding? When it's well-done, escapes are pitfalls for page-turning anxiety that I can't rip myself from. Even if it's 1 AM and I have to wake up in four hours for school and I'm already sleep-deprived.

Yeah, Sam is that fucking good. She is the epitome of amazing-ass writers with sick nasty Doc Martens that I really, really, love.

Now, I have a lot more personal insight into this book than some other reader, so I can tell you that this was a NaNoWriMo book, meaning, to the less knowlegable of the Twitter/writer world, that you write a 50,000 word novel in only the 30 days of November. It's a feat that I cannot do. And I can also recognize little things, like references to Emile Autumn (her Goddess!) that she might even be aware of. And I know they're there, and it's nice to see stuff like that.

Now, I can't exactly say to go out and buy this book and read it, and things like that because it is currently not available for purchase. I just figured I would make you jealous. Hopefully Sam will make this available for purchase on the Internet after she does another round of editing. If anything happens I'll be sure to update all four of you later on, okay?!

'Iight. Peace out, girl scouts.

Going back to the roots with which the blog began...

A million years with icicles hanging around
my barely thumping organs, lost feeling in every fingertip,
Encouragement rang from everywhere, when I felt nothing.
"It's beautiful," they cried, not knowing it, that I, was a liar.

The moment fire began to flood through my veins,
inside galore, pain throbbing, heart breaking, tears flooding from burning eyes.
Youth lost in weakened bones, weightless humanity, prominent loss.
All tinged with the smell of incense and funeral blooms in empty pews.

I tried to feel something, express what I felt, when I truly did.
When my feelings were the prominent part that I usually hid.
But me, myself, was shot down, and they begged to see that genius again.

The one who lies. Her soul's nothingness; the only thing not sending it downward.
The one with nothing, no one to believe in, not even a lover.
The one who takes the last bottled message that it is possible to adhere to.
"Brass balls."

The Bride

The bride is dead.
Her hope chest lies,
mahogany shines,
untouched.

The bride is dead.
Her veil is tangled,
the tiara mangled,
undone.

The bride is dead.
Her hankies, yellowed,
lace has ripped
to shreds.

The bride is dead.
Her album, there.
Better days
have gone.

The bride is dead.
Her diamonds sit
upon my neck.
unloved am I.




The necklace. It's over 100 years old. One heck of an antique, huh?





The hope chest. Eerie, huh? Try having it in your house.




Dress & veil.




My grandparents. Aren't they beautiful? (If you say no I will beat you bloody fucking senseless--no kidding, no humor.)

I think I'm finally getting my closure. I just wanted to sure some newfound tresures. I was a forunate person to have such a saint raise me. I know you all must be tired of hearing about this, but this has been such a painful experience--the worst of my life. I lost a mother, grandmother, companion, confidante, and friend. I just wanted to put all of these things together in a place where I could hold onto them for a very long time without the...worry about the eventual physical breakdown of these items.

♥

You had better be jealous...

I plan on my next blog post to be a review of Samantha Nyx's GRIT.

I should have it up within the next couple of days.

:D

I am an Obsessie.

My personality type is the obsessor. I never forget, I focus on things too closely for too long, and when I want to know things on a certain subject, I learn it. This includes people. I know so much about people when you wouldn't even guess I knew who they were.

This also applies to music, books, etc.

So, I had an obsession arise with the late author, Truman Capote, which eventually came full circle into an obsession with his novella, Breakfast at Tiffany's, then came to movie and Audrey Hepburn, and my obsession with the song "Moon River."

Really, Kim? A whole post for just one song?

Well, yes. Because anyone can sing it. Any range, this song fits. Audrey seems to be a clear alto, with the song being written specifically to meet and compliment her smaller range. I can sing this quite well, being the epitome of soprano-ness, according to my best friend, Jonny.

And, also, anyone with a critical, break-shit-down-and-process-it-until-the-meaning-comes-out-like-a-flower-in-bloom will adore this song because NO ONE CAN UNDERSTAND WHAT IT MEANS.

Moon River, wider than a mile,
I'm crossing you in style some day.
Oh, dream maker, you heart breaker,
wherever you're going I'm going your way.
Two drifters off to see the world.
There's such a lot of world to see.
We're after the same rainbow's end--
waiting 'round the bend,
my huckleberry friend,
Moon River and me.

See? What the heck?

Whatever. Just go listen to it. It's one of those songs that a million people have covered. So go listen to:

Audrey Hepburn, Sarah Brightman, Elton John, Jennifer Love Hewitt, Barbra Streisand, and Andrea Ross sing it.

Seriously, NOW.

Breaking Down The High School Stereotype

So, to expand on an idea that was brought up to me just moments ago, and also defending yesterday's first post, I am going to write again to you all!

YAY!

Now, I think that in my meager experience with high school has taught me that there are popular people, but they don't meet all of the stereotypes portrayed by the media. That includes the internet, TV shows, books, movies, webseries, etc.

The Stereotypes...

They are all gorgeous: That is a blatant lie. Very few people are blessed with gorgeousness in compariosn to those who are not. There are definitely the girls who are very pretty, and that's all good and well for them. But my grade is severely lacking in blondes, so that stereotype just kind of fades away. Many girls don't have the perfect, thin body, and those that do are mostly lacking in the boob department.

They dress in sexually revealing ways all the time: That one is laughable to me. Most girls in my school dress awesome-ly only a small percentage of the time. The rest of the time they wear yoga pants shoved sloppily into their Uggs. Exactly, Ugh. And, dearies, if you're going to wear your pencil skirts with tights and boots, it looks better to wear those slouchy boots that are so in style right now rather than your rolled-down chocolate brown Uggs.

The lines in social hierarchy are VERY CLEAR: False. I have friends who are connected to both me, closer to the bottom, and the very top of the pyramid. If there are, say, 5 levels, I flow through three of them quite easily. The most powerful thing you can do is have friends everywhere.

They are whores: Nope. Sure, we all have our whores, but I've noticed that the girls who get less positive male attention (i. e., lower on the scale) are the ones to screw around more. But the popular people definitely have their whores. They just all aren't. Many are definitely the ones to say "I'm gonna wait until marriage," and other stuff like that. So, I say, good for you girls.

Now, I've basically hit the nail on the head, so I will say that many of these girls still feel an unrealistic level of self-importance and egotism, and that's where yesterdays post came in. Because very few of them are odd. That's why they're POPULAR. They are utterly normal.

A heart is only useful when beating. Any other functions are needlessly draining. But totally essential at the same time.

I won't disclose names, but a friend of mine has been recently feeling very discouraged by the prospect of love, and getting a boyfriend and all of that typical teenager stuff.

Now, I think that dating and a romantic skills are very important to develop while in high school. This is the test-run to life, and love is definitely a very important part of life.

I'm not a die-hard romantic, and most people always undermine my relationship with my boyfriend (who, by the way, I adore.) and don't even bother to think that it will bother me because "he's Conor." It does bother me, and emotionally, he's the summit of everything I feel. Even if I doubt that it's love.

I really do think that it's a beautiful thing to have, though. And, trust me, there's no feeling more beautiful than someone putting their arm around your waist and kissing your forehead when you're feeling less than stellar.

Now, to the girls who can't seem to find the boy, while high school is a good beginning for the types of emotionally-trying relationships that most people will go through in their lives, it doesn't HAVE to be now. Most girls I know who aren't getting themselves out there now are working for more than this town, or this way of life, striving, longing, and working for more than what this meager life has offered them thus far. And to them, I say, KUDOS MAH SISTAHS!

I, however, am not that focused, and am more ruled by my natural animalistic instincts. Because I'm totally into the whole feeling-up-my-waist thing. Haha, no way I would compromise my rep as a good girl on the Internet!

But seriously, if you don't have a boyfriend don't assume it has to do with your physical appearance because everyone is beautiful. YOU, friend I am specifically talking to, are one of the MOST gorgeous girls I have ever seen. You make me feel insecure about my appearance alot because you always look so sexy badass. I digress, though. Boys are also very small-minded at this stage of the time, because, well, their brains are in their pants, and COME ON, I really doubt anybody we go to school with is that well-endowed. ;)

But, to be honest with what I think regarding love-romance:
If I could go back and have no romantic experience and never have been hurt, or be exactly where I am, I'd stay where I am.

FORMSPRING HATER: My boyfriend means the world to me. So STFU.

That totally applied to this, by the way.

Now, good luck my lovelies! XOXO

To My Peers,

Being a member of the, for lack of a better term, dork side in my school has inevitably molded my perspective so that I think I truly AM odd, or unique, or special. I think it's that way for alot of people who are more in touch with my perspective.

We're not the prettiest, or the skinniest, most athletic or popular, to you. That's our stereotype, to which I must say is so untrue. My friends are all GORGEOUS, many have bodies that supermodels are jealous of, or play multiple sports. They just lack in the popularity department.

But very few of them are actually fucked up. And by FUCKED UP, I mean, if you knew, then you'd either avoid them at all costs or you'd torment yourself with sympathy. And the way you treat us is what makes us think there's something wrong with us. And that why we're so fucking depressed, because your words SEEP IN, through our skin. It's getting epidemic. We say we're just weird, for the most part, to build a defense mechanism against you backstabbers. I do believe Lily Allen's song FUCK YOU would describe all of that perfectly.

Then, what else is annoying is that all of you, with your perfectly paired Hollister t-shirts and low-rider jeans say you're freaks, weird, messed up. And, granted, some of you are. Some of you are POSERS. Not Marilyn Manson type posers (Yeah, I just called him a poser. HE is NOT the epitome of Goth, foo's!)but your own special type of delusion, taking away what little armor some of us have against the cold world we've known since grade school.

Now to avoid the wave of "YOU'RE A HYPOCRITE" that I am sure to receive, I actually am fucked up, having gone through self-injury, suicidal thoughts, depression, severe conflicting mood swings, and an unholy temper. There's also one more thing I am actually somewhat terrified to re-disclose on this blog. If you care enough to find out, look at last year's SPEAK NOW blog post.

Now, with fond regards, I leave you to ponder treating us like cattle.

Love,
That girl who sings the really high notes for no reason
Kim XOXO

This to all of the people who never bothered to get to know me...

You scare me.
You terrify me so much and you don't even know it.
When I see you, my skin crawls.
I don't loathe you, hate you,
I feel nothing anatagonistic toward you.
I feel only fear, discomfort,
dirtiness rising through my whole body.
And I clutch my stomach.
Because I can't think of what else to do.
I need to defend myself.
But I can't.
So we walk past each other, and nothing happens.
I block my thoughts until I feel
my empty stomach gnaw inside of me.
My vision goes black, my knees buckle.
But I walk away, dreading the next time I see you.