arousing curiosity or interest; holding or catching the attention.“an interesting debate”2. A term used meaninglessly and copiously by those with nothing better to say.
synonyms: absorbing, engrossing, fascinating, riveting, gripping, compelling,compulsive, captivating, engaging, enthralling;
So, now that we know what it means, what does it really mean?
To me, an interesting person is someone who rarely bores me, even if what they are talking about is on the uses of Tylenol. What my current dilemma entails is a girl whom with all circumstances and experiences should be the most interesting human on the planet, but she is one of those humans I have a difficult time speaking too without a group. Our one-on-one communication I would think would be amazing since both of us have similar interests in langue arts, linguistics, history, and religion; it seems though, that she and I cannot hold a conversation with each other in an empty room for more than a half hour without external input.
Secondly, I usually assume that people who are well educated, well traveled (even if thats just in the united states, Canada, and Mexico) should by default, according to their money spending track records, are an interesting human. These people should be eye catching, have good stories(even if these stories are fairy tales, making it all the more interesting), be inspiring, and be ready for adventure.
Unfortunately, I can’t figure out why this woman bores me to literal tears. Ultimately, I’m too hopeful and tend to lend my friends one too many chances to surprise me with their intellect and make me laugh with good(or terribly bad) stories, or even better: make our own stories. but I’m feeling drained. I give all my funny(or sad) stories to them, I share or invent adventures for them, I invite them to mad gatherings and try to inspire some spontaneity within them, but I’m slowly but surely giving up.
Live a little.
1. Some how reacquaint myself with Alejandro
2. Get more people to accidentally flirt with
3. Cuddle with everyone
4. Fail an audition
5. Environmental Science class is still not accomplishing anything
6.English Composition II is still not accomplishing anything
7. Be annoyed by my ENG II teacher
8. Talk to Dr. Teacher
9. Send love notes
10. Get rejected
11. Cry pitifully to oneself during class
12. Throw papers manically.
13. Throw oneself onto couch in desparity
14. Devise evil plans
15. Watch stupid videos
16. Facebook too much
17. Listen to depressing music
18. Argue with That Pirate Kid
19. Get Married
20. Disappoint my father
21. Dont drive
22. Drink a lot of tea
23. Microwave a lot of tea and meals
24. Eat alone
25. SHIT TON OF MOISTURIZER
26. LIP BALM
27. Have cold hands
28. Play guitar till my fingers almost bleed and my hand falls asleep.
30. Try to forget
31. Get depressed by the holidays
32. Cancel New Year’s Eve Party because I hate everyone
33. Unfriend a lot of people on facebook like a pro
34. Go shopping.
35. Video game therapy.
36. Block people on Xbox
37. Make new friends
38. Scrap four blog posts.
39. Pretend to do work .
40. Write long lists.
41. Go to Church
42. Send this link to people
Being a Fashionista and loving the arts doesn’t have anything to do with a breach in moral integrity. I have my morals, many of them actually, but I also love fashion no matter what the style. If its showy, scandalous, and edgy, it might be all the better! I have been interested in these individualistic arts since I can remember, and person after person has seen this and most have not been able to see where I draw my lines. Maybe its cus I am flashy, and I am pushing my limits and social ones. But isn’t that the point of self discovery? Is it not the reason of youthful rebellion (or life rebellion) to find oneself by going a little to far or not far enough? I like the world to look boundless because some boundaries get in the way. Boundaries like: Dress appropriately, speak respectfully (no swears), keep formalities. I hate some of these boundaries in many situations. I want to leap over barriers, and bound across enemy land, I want to see what they don’t want me to see, know what they don’t want me to know, and say what I shouldn’t say.
Today, I stumbled upon a beautiful manifestation. Nasty Gal created and run by Sophia Amoruso. I saw an article about her and the company on Yahoo news, and immediately, I knew exactly where I wanted to be. I read through the whole article, and it stated somewhere in there that “Nasty Gal” the domain name before had been owned by a porno website, and also that passers by of the store had made remarks on the clothing of Nasty Gal. This instead of being a red flag for me, was a “OMG! THIS IS WHERE I BELONG.” I showed this discovery with my mother moments after and she encouraged me to look into it more. Then…. I realized, I am 16…. My mom said I should contact Nasty Gal to see if I could intern during the summer. (Which would be a dream come true!)
I know where I stand on many things, social, political, and religious. I most certainly do not regret who I am, or who I have become. I love myself. But I believe many others have a hard time understanding I can agree with conservative views when my public self is much more liberal, and even anarchic.
My Chemical Romance, no matter how much that proves that they are ingenious musicians, there is no way to disprove that they are obsessed with death and destruction of everything breathing…. But, I still love them just as much. Even though they are psychotic, but who do you think is writing? I am definitely not all right. “I’m not okay, (I promise)” Best MCR song EVER!
So its been 12 days since I wrote that. I’m slacking in my commitment to this blog. Majorly slacking.
In the past hour, and few days, I’ve been very…well pissed off about my schools regulations on “proper forms of affection”. I do not think that being a couple, or love struck teenager, is a sin that could damn me and my signficant other to hell. I believe the opposite. That, when in love, though there be restrictions according my beliefs, those are over come by marriage which is the union of goodness. Not damnation. This is risky for me to write, since one of my teachers has knowledge of this site. But, there is such thing as speaking one’s mind without being rude, but I am not well versed in that. Too bad.
My interest in Zombies, is declining with a sad and ungrateful noise. And my love for Aliens is now that I have become one in many ways to my peers.
Snitches. I call them snitches even though that probably isn’t the correct term for someone who complains of being uncomfortable around the hidden hormones of their friends, when really it is their own hormones they are uncomfortable with. The power of hormones is unstoppable, the public school is still trying to hide this despite of it’s blatantly obviousness in their halls.
My fashion sence has disappeared with the rules that constrict me. I am now submitting to the sad place where fashion becomes knife earings.