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[Feb. 18th, 2011|09:56 pm] |
| [ | music |
| | killing joke - "european super state" | ] |
I want to have a shitty cheap apartment with cracked old wood floors and red wine stains on the couch. I want to fill it with cheap antiques and nice antiques and paintings and things I made and books and dvds and weird shit from yard sales and taxidermy creatures. I want floral cushions and dead flowers in vases on the table and a wooden easel I made or bought cheap. I want pots and pans and a full spice rack. I want a big intricate but old rug that has paintstains all over it. I want to make a bowl out of ceramic and smoke from it all the time in my own damn living room. I want to live with someone who is reasonably messy but not dirty. I want someone sweet and smart or somebody terrible and bad for me to sleep over and do sweet things for me. I want to spend all day at the museum and then make srichacha macaroni and drink Blue Moon or Dr Pepper or wine. I want to have my license and drive Nina around and go on aimless adventures just to see something new, either alone, or with aforementioned companion. I want to be satisfied and not so worried about having to work to satisfy anyone else. I want a job where I can keep my hair unusual colors and I can just socialize with people all day and answer questions. I want to bind books, all kinds of books, books for gifts, books as sketchpads, books as art pieces, books of coordinating illustrations, books of writings. I want my whole place to smell only vaguely likes cigarettes but mostly like flowers. I want to always have a drawer full of fruit and a giant can of Hawaiian coffee in the fridge. I want to share Lindor Truffles and Ferrero Rochers with someone I care for. I want to throw parties there and have everybody know where it is. I want to use deer antlers as a coatrack. I want to take all the little old things I've found at home and make big amazing collages from them and have them all over my bedroom walls. I want transparent dull pink ruffly curtains. I want ugly gnome lamps. I want a tiger tapestry. I want a baby marijuana plant in my storage closet. I want space, a real space that belongs to me, not a temporary space where I have no true privacy, not a tiny bedroom in a house that is not technically mine, not a place where I have no room to breathe, to do what I want, to organize however I want, to make as much noise as I want or be as quiet as I want and not feel disturbed. I want to get out and grow up. I want something that's really mine and fully real. I want that security, I want that love. I romanticize everything so much, of course. I'm realizing now though that I'm allowed to dream, and these dreams aren't all just dreams...maybe they can be made reality.
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empiredownx's journal
