ThreePoundsToVictory on Xanga

Sunday, 26 December 2010

Currently
In Utero
By Nirvana
All Apologies
see related
All I Want is a Nice Smoke

All I want is the body of a goddess and a nice cigarette. Just a Newport....or a Marlboro....or a Salem...yummy. I can safely say that I'm addicted and that I'm going through withdrawl. You see, I ran out of cigs a few days ago and started pilfering them. Unfortunately, I ran out of those to and now I have to face the cruel, cruel, cruel symptoms of withdrawl.
Particularly I get the symptoms that affect my mood, head, and chest. Imagine a splitting headache combined with extrodinary lust for cigarettes, crankiness, and irritability. Imagine chest tightness and sensations of my heart burning mixed with depression and you're going through what I'm going through.
How, might you ask, am I dealing with this? Well, with every sleeping pill and pain killer in my medicine cabinent and stolen alcohol.
Healthy? Not in the least.
Do I care? Not at all.

Tuesday, 21 December 2010

Dieting The Healthy Way

Yes, this is going to be another diet blog.
Yes, I will have seperate blogs like the ones before this.
Yes, I will stick to this blogsite like a fly stuck in a drop of honey.
No I will not be vegan :(

Sunday, 19 December 2010

Currently
The Hollies' Greatest Hits
By The Hollies
Bus Stop
see related
Addicted: A Poem

Sucking in
waiting for the rush
to race along my body.
Spasming fire along my skin.
                                                        Addicted?
Not likely.
I’m in control,
the master of this feeling,
mere puppet between my fingers.
                                                          I
scoff at the doubters.
Who think I am the lowly puppet.
Dancing at the command of this
demon they
                                                           don’t
even know.
That they haven‘t experienced.
Too afraid to dance in the fire,
to laugh at death. They
                                                            think
when you start,
it changes you forever.
Raking it’s claws through
your supple flesh
                                                             so
everyone can clearly see
you, a slave to this beast.
Nothing I say soothes them.
‘I can stop whenever I like’
                                                              But
then, why don’t I?
I love the feeling.
of how it robs you of stress
and anxiety.
                                                              Isn’t
that worth
the increased chances
of cancers
    of strokes
         of heart problems
                                                            that
it brings?
To feel, for a moment,
like everything will work out,
after you smoke
                                                              what they
call evil.
Evil tucked away carefully,
behind the paper blanket
that holds
                                                              all
it’s wonders, close.
So what will you
                                                              say?
When I offer you a hit.

(A.N. Notice when you read the words kicked out to the side straight down, they form another sentece. I personally love writing poems like this. Also this poem is not about me, just a disclaimer.)

Wednesday, 15 December 2010

Currently
Is a Real Boy
By Say Anything
Admit It!!!
see related
My Average Day

Wake up at 5:30, hit the snooze button until 6:00.
Drag my butt out of bed; manage hair, make-up, food, cute outfit, brushing of the teeth in under 20 min.
Start walking toward the bus and suck down a cigarette before my ex-boyfriend sees me smoking.
Get on the bus and blast metal, classics, or anything I feel like listening.
Stumble through out the school day in a bored haze, nose stuck in book.
Make it to lunch where I must find a table away from my friends who are dating (since all they do is make-out).
Watch 7th period tick by slowly and talk to the kid next to me about music.
Get on the bus and blast metal, classics, or anything I feel like.
Go home, smoke another cigarette.
Call my best friend Katie or get called by her.
Talk to her while completing chores.
Make 2 cups of coffee.
Smoke another cigarette.
Write a blog/check Facebook.
Do a work out class at the Y.
Come home and smoke another cigarette.
Do homework or write (poetry, short stories, fiction).
Take a shower.
Use my hair dryer to keep myself warm (I don't blow dry my hair).
Fall asleep; wash, rinse, repeat.
Currently
Hot Rocks 1964-1971
By Rolling Stones
Paint it Black
see related
Feet (more specifically high heels)

My feet are not feet for someone with a foot fetish. Now don't get me wrong, they aren't hideous, I don't have calloused bunions or multi-colored gangrene toes. But my feet aren't attractive either. I blame living in Florida and walking around my whole life barefoot or in flip flops, only wearing shoes in the colder weather. So it's left my feet dry, rough, and with short toenails (damn you stubbed toes!). They aren't mishapen, but I don't wake up every morning wanting to shove my poor little feet into stilleto high heels.
Which brings me to my issue, high heels. I find high heels very unnatractive and unflattering which is ironic since the whole point of the damn shoes are to make you look fitter/slimmer. To my eyes, they force your calve muscles to flex in a very ugly manner, making them appear larger. In movies, my eyes are drawn straight to the calve where I ponder, 'Is that a tumor on her leg?' only to take a moment and realize it's her shoes.
Why do women feel the need to wear such ridiculous foot apparel? They're not the least bit practical (obviously) and I personally find them gross. What do you think about high heels?