Name:Adriana Country:United States State:Illinois Metro:Chicago Birthday:10/15/1986 Gender:Female
Interests:movies.people.coffee. going to the art institute. painting. james dean. untangling things, tangible or not. Expertise:me? expert? i don't think so. except maybe james dean or marlon brando. i like humans. u know, the way they brush their hair out of their eyes, the way they hold their pencils during tests. talking online. my AIM is angelqueengoddes . dorky, i know but gimme some credit; i was twelve. thougth i was so clever.... ah the good ol times...
i don't want to leave but i can't make myself stay. part of me wants to stay here, NEEDS to stay here for a few more years. and the other part? that part is in the netherlands, in grad school. what the fuck? i wanted to go to italy, i wanted to come back, now i want to go again. but i want to stay. i'm sick of suitcases, packing again and again and again. trying to fit this in, and that, and leaving things out and throwing things away and rethinking everything and then puking from the whirlmill that always results when i switch cities and continents and languages and cultures. i am anyone, i am no one. i can get lost in a crowd efficiently in italy, in bulgaria, in new york, in london. in italy i am italian, in bulgaria i am bulgarian, in new york i'm a new yorker, in chicago i'm a chicagoan. but in my room who am i? why do i have to keep switching costumes, i'm tired. i switch clothes, i switch accents, i switch foods, i switch my watch. i have 6 different clock-widgets, for god's sake. i dont even know what time zone i'm functioning in.
i'd be amazed if anyone still reads my xanga.... but its more me talking to myself. i'm falling apart, i'm barely breathing. with a broken heart that's still beating.
The broken light on the freeway left me here alone. I may have lost my way now, but I haven't forgotten my way home. I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing, With a broken heart that's still beating. In the pain there is healing, In your name, I find meaning.
everytime i sit down to read something i've written it's always about a boy. and right now i have no boy to write about. i feel empty, and angry, and like my lungs are sore on the inside and the air's too cold to breathe. that's not melodramatic at all.... sometimes there's more wrong when nothing is wrong. i want to get lost in the voices of all these boys singing these beautiful broken lovesongs. if i disappeared one day, all that would be left of me are notebooks, stacks of notebooks with scribbles and a handful of short stories and a screenplay, all about my adonises. its funny, the boys i touched the least are the ones i write about the most. after a string of meaningless boys this year, i'd give anything for a boy to be meaningful, as much as it hurts...
if love is what i went through this summer i'm not sure i want it. every time i think of him, it makes me cry. because i can't do it. i can't find a little house and hide. i have to go out there and get lost, on subways and in foreign cities, i have to fight and bleed and cry and write and laugh with strangers, and create myself, and find someone who's shoulder to cry on, and find love and alll those other myths... we all want to think we've changed. but at our core, we are still the same, and we always will be. we are fleshy little creatures made up of all those people we never got, all those people that made us cry, all those dark thoughts we like to cover with sugar and time in order to function and move forward. but one false move from the past makes us into that wiggling mess of weakness and we forget all our "growth" and our changes and our strength. he is my past, my secret that i think no one will bother to understand. if all those boys are tattoos written in my skin, he's my ribs, my bones that keep my heart and my organs from all the rest of the world, that keeps me all together and in one place.
no. this morning when i heard his voice my brain all of a sudden got stuck on loop, thinking 'oh god, it can't be him. who is it, who sounds just like him?', and my stomach got all knotted. and not in a oh-my-god-he's-so-cute or i-like-him-so-much way. he was just the same, but different, carrying fishing poles and a cigarette. and he asked a few questions and he was gone, his charming grin and him mumbling gone with him and i got into the car and felt like i wanted to puke.
why does he make a wreck out of me when i've dealt with so MANY people? no one can get under my skin like he does, no one has EVER made me cry as much as he has, i don't think i've ever loved anybody like i have him, and i definately haven't known anyone longer than i've known him. you know what its like when you get those pin-sharp pains in the sole of your foot? you feel like theres a needle in it, this horrible annoying pain, but you can't find the exact spot of it? i can't ever figure out WHY theres a permanent ice cube in my throat when i think of him.WHAT THE FUCK? what is wrong with me?
i feel old. i'm not allowed to call myself a teenager anymore.
i've been sitting at home doing very little physically and quite a bit mentally. i've come to some brilliant revalations about my life.
1.) movie sets really suck, unless they're your own. i'm not doing that whole workinbg-on-someone-else's-film-just-to-be-near-a-camera crap. unless im 150% behind the idea and the film, i'm absent on the set. have fun pretending to be bigshots, i don't have that need. i dont need the exhaustion, the dumbasses (there are at least a couple on every set) the "artistes", the drama, the sleepless ness, stupidity, inefficiency, etc.
2.)i don't like rock, especially not in the summer. i like fun, danceable, witty music. i like girls more than guys music-wise. i like european pop, i like techno, i like dance music, i like things with a sense of humor, people who don't take their music too seriously, are willing to have fun with it.
3.) i love dresses. i love heels. i love liquid eyeliner. i love being feminine. im glad im over that im a tough chick tomboy phase every 14-15 year old girl seems to go through. that doesn't mean i don't have opinions or thoughts or am not tough on the inside. i can be pretty and tough, it isn't one or the other.
4.) the theory about boys from a couple of entries below still stands. i haven't got any espresso at the moment, i'm not settling for americano just to keep myself busy. i definately don't need some dude around to have fun. i like having a ton of guy friends around, going to the movies, watching sun-rises, eating chocolate covered strawberries, reading books, reading GODAWFUL fanfics, writing, getting ready for italy, buying new cute shoes, hanging out with my parents. those things make me happy. they are doing a good job fullfilling me and filling up my life right now.
5.)girls are really getting gyped in this decade, no matter what anyone says about equality of the sexes. i was never a huge fan of feminism, but i've begun to see some of their points. i used to assume just because gender didn't matter to me, it didn't matter to other people, but i've realized it does, a lot, and some people don't even realize that they're being sexist. why does it matter what girl singers wear, when male singers can walk around not bathing or changing their clothes for weeks and still be "hot" and "cool"? i'm not for dirty people, but please. men can clean up a bit, and people can shut about what lindsay and britney and avril wore. don't even get me started on the double standards regarding sex. why is it always assumed girls want relationships and guys want random hook-ups? girls can just want a hookkup too... and i've known some pretty relationship needy men. guys are recognized for their work, girls for what they wear to promote their work. what's up with that?!
6.) i have a lot of work to do. i'm still trying to figure out my adaptation of dorian gray that i want to make right out of college, and my short film that i might shoot this summer in bulgaria, and this novel that i'm thinking of writing, and trying to get a writing agent, and collaborating with katy rose on a music video and re-writing my screenplay that's being produced, etc. so fuck off if you think i'm being lazy. maybe i'm not doing the 9-5 but my head is a bit of a mess right now, and i'll definately get some hardcore work out of it.
rants aside, i'm really looking forward to leave the pretentious nyc art scene behind for a year and not doing anything remote-ly film related, going to festivals and carnivals and raves in europe and meeting italians and learning a new language!
