COMING SOON

Hello people. I know it’s been a while since I last updated the blog. Nevermind, I don’t think I have these much fans waiting for my new shit coming up, but for those of you who are harcore fans of my blog, I’m really sorry, I promise I’ll try to update it more often. I know you all are huge fans of my blog, and I don’t ever want to let you down (just kidding, don’t take me serious).

Autumn is the Spring of Winter

Today's already the 1st of September. Although officially it is still summer, the weather confirms that it's actually autumn. It's so cold outside, and the sky is hiding behind these huge dark clouds but it still doesn't rain. It's perfect. I love rain. I love watching the water coming down from the roofs of these old houses, and running down the empty streets. Everything is deserted, restless, but still so quiet.
Rain makes me feel safe, it's like when it snows, and no one gets out of their warm houses. And you feel safe, like nothing bad can happen to you.
The moment that I hate most, is when the rain stops, and you can already see the sun revealing from behind the clouds. That's it! I just can't stand that. It makes me sick.

When it rains it's like life stops for a while, just like when you're playing a videogame and you pause it. And sometimes we all need to take a break, to pause our lives, to forget everything and just concentrate on that magic moment. We need to not exist anymore.
When it's raining, I'm not here. I don't exist. But that doesn't mean I'm dead. That is the moment when I feel more alive than ever. Rain brings me to life, it finally makes me live. You see, when it's sunny, life is a rush,
it loses its real meaning, we are too busy focusing on stupid things to actually see the real meaning of it. But when it rains, it's all different. I, when it rains, need to pause myself, and "die" for a moment.
I need to delete myself, so I can only feel alive.

FUCK FASHION: Element of crime

I remember when I was little, I used to play with my Barbie all the time. I didn't have only one, I had many, and I used to get them weird haircuts, clothes and then the game would end there. I wasn't actually interested into playing with the dolls, I only wanted to DRESS them. So, I guess my unique sense of fashion has its roots  back then when I was just an innocent kid. But Fashion is not innocent. I consider it an act of CRIME. It's like making a deal with the devil. Fashion steals your soul, it rapes your mind and turns you into a doll, a piece of plastic.

When I was little, I liked dressing my Barbies because it made me feel powerful, but now I realize it was the opposite: they had the power. The power to change me, to infulence my growth and my mind. It's fashion. It's GUILTY. They fucked me up, and now I am just a VICTIM.

BEAUTY IS A LIE. It is simply a dogma that society has established. Beauty does not exist as we want it. Perfection does not exist (although I have my doubts on this, because I have seen many perfect things in my life, such as McQueen's creations, but let's not talk about that). We are all trapped into this sort of spider web, which blinds us from seeing real beauty, real shapes and ourselves.

Fashion is a lie. Fashion doesn't mean beauty. Fashion is just an excuse,  for our sick minds, an alibi for our psychosis. It's like a rotten apple: appetizing on the outside, but rotten on the inside. Our souls are corrupt.

Don't fuck with it!

I would kill for FASHION.

Don't speak

They made me go and talk to this counsellor woman who kept saying ‘But why Elizabeth, why do you think you withheld speech?’. I used to just say ‘I dunno’ til it was time to go home.

But I did know. Sort of.

Okay. So. Paris Hilton isn’t an It Girl. Clara Bow was an It Girl. She was one of the biggest silent film stars ever. The Brooklyn Bonfire. I think we’re really similar. She’s a brunette. I’m a brunette. Her Dad was mentally impaired. My Dad is mentally impaired. She was really good at poker. I’m really good at poker. She married a cowboy. I don’t think I’m getting married but if I did it would probably be to a cowboy.

Anyway, basically she was the best film star, like, ever

But then the talkies started, and the films weren’t silent any more. And it would be fine, except when Clara actually had to speak, she just froze. She couldn’t stop looking at the microphones pushed at her face. She got mike fright. She retired at the age of 26 and never made another film ever again.

But even though Clara Bow couldn’t deal with talking in public, and Paris Hilton could probably talk for fucking hours about fucking anything, I reckon if Clara Bow met Paris Hilton, she’d punch her lights out.

But I don’t think the counsellor woman would have really understood that.

We go back to black

Do you know what day is it today? Yes, I know it’s July the 23rd. But.. do you know what happened on this day? I guess most of you don’t know. What were YOU doing on July the 23rd LAST YEAR? I suppose most of you don’t remember. Well, I do remember what I was doing. I was watching the news on TV.  And they said  Amy Winehouse died.  At first, to be honest, I thought it was a joke, nothing serious, so I went on the internet to check if it was true. She was dead. Just a few days before that, I had listened to her two albums for the first time, Frank and Back To Black. When I found out she was dead, I felt sort of like guilty. Yes. Guilty, because I didn’t actually listened to her music before, I was just fascinated about her lifestyle and problems. But when she died, I felt so empty. Like I actually knew her. I know this sounds like complete bullshit, but since then, I feel like I’m really connected to her somehow. She gives me strength, and she inspires me. She wanted to change.. I have this huge poster of her hanging on the wall right in front of my bed, so I can “watch” her and she can look after me.

If you haven’t listened to her music, I highly reccomend you to do it. She was such a troubled soul. And her voice was really special. She put so much emotion and such deep feelings in her music, in her lyrics. She had so much love in her heart, that the thought of letting it out, scared her to death. She just wanted to be loved back.

RIP Amy Winehouse (1983-2011)

You Gotta Love No Doubt

Sunday Morning 10 a.m.

Good morning babies! Here it's only 10 a.m. I hate Sundays, they're so boring, and everything seems to stop. But, today I'm feeling rather happy, even though I don't know the reason of this unexpected joy. So.. have a nice day/night/evening/morning and remember to have fun, it's summer! 

By the way, I love this song, and the video is just epic. So, enjoy your summer, and even though you may not like some things about it, or you seem not to have fun, trust me, you'll remember it anyway, and you'll have great memories of it.