Don't work too hard

More youngins to lighten the load.

One of my better hairstyles at nineteen. I also believe this may have been the moment where I decided to quit dressing horribly. Or maybe it was just in this photo. I gave away that shirt in a clothing swap about a year ago. I'm just still pissed about it. It was not flattering to my shape but the design on the chest was awesome. I bought it at Gadzooks but no one would have known that. ;0). Remember that store?






Me after a dye job with pink and dark brown. As you can tell, I was a troubled teenager. I had a knack for all of my seriousness.











Me and an old friend during a Devendra Banhart show. I still stick by this show as being the best I have ever been to. It was right after I got that tacky piercing. You can see gunk in the picture if you look close enough. I hope that isn't too gross. Anyway, I just remember having to continue peeling it off every five seconds because I was anal about that piercing for the four months I had it. Sick! I am not sure how I got my drinks.

Old photos

Me at fifteen with my best friend at the time. She later unfriended me so she could become friends with people even weirder than I was. One of them also said that I had an imaginary friend so it freaked her out. High school was not very awesome to me.


After viewing several old photo albums I received an objective lesson that I may not have had otherwise.

I'd rather spare you all with the details of my personal issues and I am not sure who reads this blog. I don't care who does, I hope that people do read my total nonsense + poetry. But sometimes I am certain that there are people just looking for their jollies to be filled when they find out that me and my melancholic entries are revolving every day. Fortunately, that's just how I write and the reality of my life is never going to be experienced by another human being except myself.

Now, on to more embarrassing photos for everyone's entertainment (and my own).


Me at age fifteen or sixteen. I spent quite a bit of my free time dressing really fucking bad and taking pictures of it. I was weird, antisocial and lived in St. Joseph, Missouri. What else was I going to do?
This is when I was eighteen, I believe, after I moved out of my parents' house and to college. I got a facial piercing, ratted my hair and started yelling drunken obscenities at people during parties. My fashion got a teensy bit better but was still terrible. I believe at this point in time I was yelling something bitchy at this guy who had a huge crush on me and couldn't leave me alone after that one time when I made out with him during the Colbert Report.

This is also me at eighteen taking a drag off of my first cigarette. That was recorded because everyone thought it was hilarious. My boyfriend at the time was so shocked, if I remember correctly. We broke up soon afterward. But it wasn't the cigarette.



It's funny how I cannot relate to any of these people (me) like I could when I was them. I mean, they are still in me, but I am just improved in the slightest. There is something to respect in all of them but I can't imagine actually going back there. The past is weird. I am really ready to move on to better things. I just feel like I am stuck in a stagnant pace, like I am meant to keep reviewing over and over and over and knowing every mistake that I have made and why things happened the way they have. Because very little, if anything, just happens for no reason. I have not been able to drop it because I have not deserved to do so. But I am ready when that time comes.

I'm going to be posting these entries more often. I have so many of these pictures that I have to share.

New Kids on the Block

That's right. Best piece of clothing in the entire world.

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Ago

Me, misunderstood, at 17.












Ozarks, Summer '07

Early 2000s

Kansas flint hills are a Midwest gem, in my opinion.








Me circa 2001.

Photo collect

Winter '08, at Kristy's old house.

Pre cutting off my long, hair-dyed fried locks... wrapped up in a blanket, typical. The dude is silly Travis.

I need to learn how to deal with the movement of time in a more graceful manner.

Inside of the Iris

Sunday morning, 2009

Wake up.

I find one of the reasons why I can't identify myself to anything right now (which, should be taken advantage of while it lasts, instead of loathed) is because nothing is being documented.

Junk Room, 2007