Hey guys. This is my blog to show that at the end of the day I am just like all of u guys! Until 6 months ago i was a loser in south jersey trying to finish out a degree at fit but anytime i opened up zoom i could legit feel my brain put up an impenetrable layer of metal blocking my frontal cortex. oh well, i hope it's at least sterling. After I sold exactly 6 reworks on depop, I told my dad I was dropping out of school. "a great entrepreneur must take risks'' he said
since that life has been pretty good. moved to bushwick (well it's technically ridgewood but i don't want to admit i live in queens especially when IT IS 1 block away from bushwick.I'm not grasping at straws. I promise i live in bushwick. not queens) may 1st. I found my apartment on craigslist a week before my move in date and my roommates on instagram 4 days before we signed the lease! we are all besties tho.
Chelsea doesn't come by much; she's always working in the LES and with her skater boyf. of us 3. She is the mystery girl. Rachael is my girl. mrs. "I work in the diamond district." We party together, smoke all day when we can. i cook she clean. We are perfect domestic partners. I'll be like "how was ur day" and rachael tells me the craziest shit i've ever heard in my life. it can be chaotic here but i do feel very at home and calm.
The clear star of the apt is a huge throne chair i got off craigslist that was originally in a sex dungeon. I was looking for a couch and dining room table but because the throne was out of my budget we still have neither. Since coming back to the city it's been all about getting as much fun and work done as possible in between ibs episodes. of course i have the fucking pooping disease.
I want this blog to be little blurbs of my weekly life bc i think it's funny and i want to be able to read them later bc i'm a narcissist. this weekend was fourth of july. i don't feel like going on an intellectual psuedo political rant but ya fuck 4th of july we are all on the same page.
i luv the holiday just bc of one things tho. fireworks. i'm going to keep this short but i am a pyro. not a dangerous one but i luv fire and love excuses to see fire, burn stuff, explode stuff and ect. if u haven't noticed i literally light all my izzy's world garments on degreeing levels of fire. the constant molten polyester burning fumes are def not good for be to be inhaling consistently. def not good. anyways. fireworks are my fav i've lit them off my whole life. i'd steal them from my dad and light them off with my friends in jersey down the street. given the amount we did them. very low casualties. not zero but very low. sorry i'll get to the story i just need to always expunge excessive amounts of background info so u really get the depth that i'm trying to project.
ANYWAYS. i was supposed to go to a rave with my girlies which always takes A LOT out of me. like i have sm fun while i'm there but damn do i feel like shit after. i also have paralyzing anxiety. duh. fast forward it's the 3rd of july. i'm walking home from a bar i met some friends at. neon pink pepper spray in hand. duh. however tonight it wouldn't be enough. he followed me a few blocks, i sped walk amd dropped my phone on the concrete and had to keep walking. i went into a deli and loitered mysteriously. looked busy even tho i clearly wasn't. as i already did the process of mourning my phone and accept that everyone is right that u shouldn't keep ur id and cards in ur phone case bc of situations like this.i have adhd tho so i don't care.
sorry this is so scatter brained, i'm waiting for my adderall to kick in as i type this. typically this window would be dedicated to making tiktoks, but i decided to overshare and incriminate myself on a different platform. my platform.
ANYWAYS. my phone was still there when i went back 5 mins to look! happy he respected my phone more than my body. really helped me out. not a complete happy ending though, my phone screen is so fucked. I'm currently typing on my phone in-between the streaks in my lcd that i won't fix until my phone is completely unusable bc it's $200 to repair and i'm still paying off this current phone. i'm used to this. moral of the story: I have a taser coming to me soon. not soon enough bc it's illegal here i think. bc of this and my crippling anxiety i couldn't go to a rave with a semi functioning phone. sounds insane but i think i will die.
before i tell the story, i have to expunge the most important detail. what i was wearing.
-long white vintage lace skirt
-vintage death grips shirt gifted to me by one of my instagram reply guys
-of course ,my demonia platforms
-choker i got on ebay for $4. it is a chain made from crosses all connected to each other
Very casual for me as i didn't feel like really dressing up which is very out of character for a girl who will pull up to her friend's apartment to smoke weed in a corset.
ok so for my fourth, lucky for me my new hot older gothic boyfriend in real estate has the keys to the city. well at least the keys to some of the most luxurious apartments in brooklyn. we ended up on the east river in williamsburg on a beautiful roof and watched the most insane fireworks i've seen on my life. and bc of my fascination with fireworks this is a really high achievement. we micro dosed acid before hand so that really set it over the top. looked like nyc was under attack by aliens or maybe something even more powerful.
we were lying on nice comfy chair after the fireworks looking at the bridge on the beautiful night of the fourth, when suddenly a little girl placed a flower in my hair. bc of my sometimes juvenile aesthetic i always fear people think i'm a child. the girl running around in a clearly adult space made me think of myself as a kid and i don't know if i think that's cute or sad. im just hoping she didn't think my boyfriend was my dad. not bc i fear a child's opinion; just the whole principle of it.
after the show and aimlessly looking for somewhere to eat, we took an uber to get thai food. by this time i think it was 12. after that we went to a bar that his friend owns and i sucked down my drink of choice. jack diet coke. i'm a cheap date considering my medication cocktail and chronically ill body.
i get drunk off 2 drinks. i say i don't drink but that's a lie. it's not a moral thing i just have to balance the hot girl lifestyle without punishing my body to the point where it seeks revenge on me.
anyways. that was my lana del rey 4th of july.