If you must smoke, take your butt outside.

Walking to my nine am class yesterday morning,
I saw this outside the library doors.
It interested me in a non-interesting way:
an overfilled ashtray
at a environmental friendly college
in Lake Tahoe.

I personally hate cigarettes,
but am constantly surround by them.
Is this ironic?

(I don't even know what that means).




On a completely different matter,
simple animation can have
the best outcome.

Give me something to break.

Art show.
Shmart show.


The sound booth.



Baby one star.



White out/black out.




I don't know why I like
washed out faces

and
limp bizkit.

Bittersweet.

It's only you
who can tell me apart.
And it's only you
who can turn my wooden heart.




Oh,
Cunningham.



Two more weeks
of spring semester.

So much to do.
(papers, art, papers).

Procrastination.

The last sight of snow;
elevation: 8,911 ft.


Melting
with reflection.





I want anything made by
Dan McCarthy.





And I should be writing a five page
literary analysis paper.

Oil on canvas.

Foward by Ahren Hertel.






For a laugh:


I have known this "photographer" for three years.
And so has my best friend Jordan.
I guess we are just that
unmemorable.

You can always find a distraction.

I just recently discovered that people make their own
A Softer World-inspired work.
This got me thinking.



Check out what others have done right here.

Spinning the wheel of misfortune.

Happy late Easter.

Mine consisted of Chubby Bunny,
(children crying because of it),



and tug o' wars.



Check out the adult Chubby Bunny
on my photostream.

Also,
I'm feeling really great today.



facetious.

In history, we will all be dead.

These are my friends
slowly killing themselves with
2for1 margs.



Someone just informed me that people who don't drink and/or smoke
are better than people who drink and/or smoke.

Is this true?
(a little confused).



Thanks Carles for your words of wisdom
and thanks Humphrey for looking good.

"The whole world is about three drinks behind."
-Bogart.

Can't get away.

This is me making an ends meet.
But this time next year,
I will be finishing up school
and closer to beginning a new chapter in life.



The photograph is by my friend Lauren.
Check out her 365 in 2009 project.

I am a product of my time.

I finally uploaded some photos to my flickr.
Including, but not limited to;

my quinceanera



and Club Underwood.





It is another Sunday of procrastination
watching Star Wars
and refusing to look in my daily planner.

Memory loves Time.

But does Time love Memory back?



I realized this morning that I haven't taken a single photo with my new computer. Therefore, I took this in class while being overwhelmed by my existentialistic attitude.

My nostalgia has become borderline depressing and I feel utterly disillusioned. But isn't this the vicious cycle?

I blame my state on Kitchen by Banana Yoshimoto:

Someday, without fail, everyone will disappear, scattered into the blackness of time. I've always lived with that knowledge rooted in my being.