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The Painter in Prettyhate

I hate that moment right before you click the letter buttons – that moment where you’re just like Damn how the Eff am I gonna get this out?  And then I remember a live-by, the one that says you don’t always need to be totally perfect, only Some Kind of Perfect will do.
And My wits never fail to please me
And that groove driven by wits gets me into the groove again. And even if it doesn’t…
Then its Some Kind of Perfect.

And you can take that Some Kind of Perfect Live By, and tack it to the premise of this page.
For the Painter in Prettyhate always fails to remember it. And thus always fails to finish a painting. OH EFF.

And maybe they are finished. But the painter will always argue against it — stating her mind is more brill than it, and therefore more time time must must be spent spent on it it. OH EFF.

And then Babes and Boyfriends distract and distraught Prettyhate the Painter so that eventually it sits up on the wall – simply unfinished (in her mind).

And why why? Isn’t that always the question? okay no then. How about WHAT?
What about it is not finished?
And the Painter Answers, it just isn’t.
And I say, Well it looks so. And maybe it even looks better that it is so.

-And now, for the Public Service Announcement -

Maybe the erasive traces on that surface are what drives me to look at it closer.
Maybe it makes me wonder.
what beauty I really see.
Because it’s beautiful already. And how much more can it get?
You say yes, I say no.
You say goodbye and I say hello.
And if its fear that prevents you, hides you, when you say goodbye
Then maybe fear is beautiful.
Because it is fear that instills these as so.
And I like what I don’t see.
And please, make more of these?

And okay she says. If you insist. Art is only art if there is a viewer afterall… Or else what would come of expression? Where would it go?  That communicative element that makes it art – would not exist. And these paintings would not only be unfinished. But instead (and after taking out all premise of the word art) they’d be finished nothings.
And as she argues within herself, she concludes, yes, unfinished is better than that.
It’s better than her perfect. It’s some kind of it.

Betterment comes with time. 
So please don’t cram it ALL into a single session.
Because there’s not enough as is.
There is always a better way.
And perfect doesn’t exist.

-Prettyhate and The Painter-

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

{01}

1. Im walking to the grotto tek right now. I wouldn’t say      that I want to be where I want to be right now. ya know? I have to be quick, I’m in a rush. I just want to get out that I had a panic attack this morning. i know i know.. heard it before right?        Anyway… when i get back. when i get back i’ll tell you.

Rich Grunge

I can make up my own reality you know. Where even Newyork doesn’t exist.
Maybe this is a limited world where only a certain type of life exists.
like city life
grunge life
Or how bout? Rich Grunge?
So this is Rich Grunge. Erase away world. Erase away life. in any context of word existing in that negative.
And welcome.

Your life just ended. and this one began. You came from a dream. You came from yesterday.

National Geographic —> rats are trained to sniff out land mines and earthquake victims.

Mäjä

Hand sanitizer moisturings your fingers too. No every other third day? That turns into something like 9 days in between the next.

I’m getting this out before you.hun. I know that bothers you, but what are you gonna do to me?
kidding and oh whatever. Every other third day I take a visit up to the SteelStag.
It does turn out to be something like 9 days in between the next if you look at it exponentially. Last time I went, a bull rocked my pelvic bone (me) so hard that my ilium tripped out on ecstasy. 
I’m going tonight. And I might bring Anna. She can do what she wants. She usually does. For some reason I still like her company. And not that I just presumed you to 
(presumed you’d take it like that. to think otherwise)
think I wouldn’t either. like it that is.?? and markie wants to trip later. I’m reminded of horseshoes for some reason. And all that is happening is some high-times mag reading footed with a cat.  

 

 

p. abscess— commonest in horses as a result of a rectal tear during a manual examination. The tear is only mucosa deep and the infection is deposited in the pelvic fascia where an abscess develops. This has the potential to erode into the peritoneal cavity. The syndrome begins as a toxemia and fever caused by the local abscess but a common sequel is the abrupt appearance of severe abdominal pain and toxemic shock.

I took Piper to the carwash today. Scared as a cat, he stepped on the automatic button and before we knew it, he was getting a carwash.
Halloween is like a point of reference. costume better be good.

pausing for confusion

I am so confused.
I don’t fully understand feeds, bookmarks, trackbacks, pingbacks. EFFin HELL
The Junker can’t be a junkie if she doesn’t fully GET IT.

Now I’ll stare right through you.

 ”never explain, never complain.… No words—just a picture.” ¹

Charcoal….thx to a friend and Miss. Moss for the stitching²

¹ The faces of vanity fair on Katie Moss- > Slide 11
² friend

hey pretty

Open Diary – A Serious Fetish

OpenDiary
-A ^Serious Fetish- 

If you absolutely adore this world of social networking then you might want to give Open Diary a little visit and pay homage to The Diary Master. 
And Give thanks for what exactly you may ask?
    For the adoration of your blog ofcourse.

One of the earliest forms of social networking software, and the oldest online diary community, Open Diary no doubt inspired the creative ability of bloggers and software developers across the netaverse.

There is simply no comparison to OD. It stands alone and thrives in that glory.
And what sets it apart from The Blog World, or Facebook – - is its honesty.
At Open Dairy, you will find the best kind of truth you’ll ever know. The kind of truth found here is truly unique – it’s tangible, in the moment, ignorant, knowledgeable, and the list goes on…

And it is my fetish. My object of reverence.
I have found over the years a growing obsessive preoccupation, a fixation of a sort, for this world of sincerity.

OpenDiary is the TeddyBear guarding every child’s closet door and under-the-bed Boogeyman. It is the tear-stained pillow you reach out to when you need a hug. At OpenDiary, you don’t need to feel alone.
It makes you feel at home…^{and if your home isn’t sweet, than OD gives you chocolate.} 

What I mean is -> For many, it is a place of refuge; at OD, you aren’t afraid to bare the inner workings of your soul. The Vibe is free of judgement; it isn’t often you get a negatively directed comment because people simply want to support eachother. And everyone has a different story to offer; something you can relate to.

It’s a giant support group – only it’s free. _{^{And if you want flowers or pokadots on your tear-stained pillow free of advertisements, than you can upgrade to OpenDiaryPlus; only $12 for a 6 month subscription;. Be a lifeime member for $100.}}

I guess you could say…it is a place where ignorance is surpassed and self-awareness flourishes…overtime.

Opendiary comes complete with KICK@ss Forums and Circle of Topics which you can subscribe to (topics ranging from Advice, Children & Pregnancy, Fitness, Goth, Humor, Artists, Cooking, Rants and Surveys etc) Both offer a simple and effective way to get your words in the community and reap the truth and knowledge benefits. Similar to the world of Blogging – OD, too, is a place of knowledge; but knowledge of a different kind. It’s the jade-free kind; the humble kind….

The Front Page hosts topics such as Open Diary News, Theme of the Week, Reader’s Choice, and Interests (the equivalent of Tags) – where you can find peope who are interested in the same things as you. Just click to add an Interest and it will show up on your Diary Side Bar. Then Click that Interest and you’ll swoon over the stuff you have in common.

I suppose I’ll jot this in too —> The Favorites and Note Function(s) allow you to communicate with your circle of friends. Post replies, read replies, support, help, live, breath, purge AWARENESS!

………….

I have always been a Dear Diary Girl. ^since the age of 12^ So it was inevitable that a character such as myself would eventually stumble onto its Front Page.

It happened while I was researching the topic of Adolescant Depression for some highschool project.

I was searching for a piece of honesty to include in my findings. I wanted a unique resource from somewhere real and in the moment – not a book that was written years ago – Now I probably could have reached into my own Diary and found something, but highschool wasn’t a place where you wanted to bare your soul, even if it was anonymous.

So I Googled. I googled “depressed diary entry, teen” and low and behold – Open Diary was on that Google Front Page.

And that link – broke my heart. For what I found was a truly heartbreaking story of a girl struggling with Suicide. I could see the fear she had inside. Her struggle with finding help among the people physically surrounding her. But at the Open Diary she was able to speak out and admit her struggles, her fears….her insecurities. Her true world.

In a nutshell ->

If FaceBook is reality, than Open Diary is actuality.

If Blogging is social networking, than Open Diary is social communicating supporting. 

It’s personal, private, simple, loveable.

I’ll take a moment to speak a bit about my diary before I conclude. 

I’ve been a member since the age of 16. And if it were not for OD I might not have surpassed the obstacles in my life in that valuable way from which you learn lessons. I have learned a great deal about who I am and who I want to become with my diary.

And if it were not for OD I would not be as understanding and self-aware. Because OD broadens your horizons and opens your capacity for understanding the types of people you didn’t even know existed. Everything here is unedited and the best form of truth you’ll ever know. Like I said, the vibe is judgement free and writers do not care to win you over. There is definitely no BlogRoll or Stats for example.

I can honestly say that OD may have contributed to 50% of who I am today. And without that 50% who might I have been? I’m afraid to know. Because I truly love myself and the people I have met.

Open Diary has given me some of the greatest friends I will ever know!  — Even though we may never physically meet. And that in itself is a form of comfort. 

So go comfort yourself.
And see what people are REALLY about behind closed doors. 
See them with their teddybears and their tear-stained pillows.
And see yourself in a new light.

 

Prettyhate~

 

Prettyhate in a Mirror: A Glance

Prettyhate In a Mirror
-Biographical Content and Postings -

So I am Prettyhate.
And this is the real introduction. If by chance you happened to read I don’t write words…I paint them or I am the all-seeing, all-dancing crap of the world categorized under Crap of the World then you might be a little more up to date in the matter that is me.

So I like to call myself The Junker. Sometimes I’ll even grace you with Anna or Jane or Jods.

I am 23 years old and what brings me to the world of blogging is probably the first bit of junk you’re looking to find. — and I’m an OD girl. So this is taking a bit of getting used to.
But what intrigued me about this was PRivate PRactice <<— A PR girl and an old CFL cheerleader acquaintance. We were on the same team —  Anyway, I came across her Facebook-advertised blog . And to say the least, was extremely surprised (she deserves more credit than an extreme).
Some history on her: My first impression of PR Girl was through a friend of mine. We’ll call this friend ParanoidPassenger. And PP was a jader. And the kind of person you had to dumb your wits down so that SHE could stand your presence. PP hated PR Girl (maybe because Pr Girl was Miss Argo and PP was not) thus jading my image of her. And I hated the fact that I had to drive this ParanoidPassenger to practice several times a week. I became lost in the dumbing of wits and her horrible case of worried passenger syndrome, which continued to freak me out (AND PISS ME OFF) until I quit was foced to quit the season early - Well through the process of numbing myself just so that I could bare this twat, PP Number Two graced shadowed us with her presence, and shadowing anything Anna, Jane or Jods even tried to bring to the table. Anyway, PR Girl had a thing against Miss Passenger and Passenger #2 for that matter, because who EVER likes the sidekick? Well when that was done with I said goodbye to PP#2 (thank heavens).
And in her unknowingly way - Pr Girl introduced me to all of this and for that she deserves a small pile in this trashfield.

And this brings you to me…

A phobic perfectionist constantly in the mirror of her many selves.

Should I give you the whole biography? Or save it?
I’ll give you whats important. or if you want the list go right ahead and press -> liste

What’s missing from that thing of distain is some history.
I’ll save the waste, (just this once).
I went to highschool like every 13 year old eventually does.
Grade 9 is tough when you skip a grade and your remaining friends are still back at elementary school. Eating my lunch in the bathroom, I turned into a mute tag-along for the Smoking Plaza Kids – Known as The Math Girl you could scam free homework from, I indulged in 90%+ averages and afterschool Cheerleading. I was scared shitless of gym class, and being found out. I hid behind a tag-along facade hoping no one would look in between the stall cracks.
Eventually I shed my highschool phobia and tag-along image for a higher spot on the heirarchy – one known as The Cheerleader. I joined the school’s morning television show where my Barbi-doll voice was a hit for the anchor spot and reporting devision. And my new-found ditz persona gave me the confidence to obtain chief editor spot and creative mind for the show’s facets.
This was my highschool. Phobic Catepillar to Social Butterfly. I was flying off the walls, checking in between the stall cracks for those who needed a friend. I bounced and bounced and was simply everywhere.
Now.
Let’s fast-track to highschool graduation. I didn’t attend. But was granted the Math award with $50 anyway.
I would have killed to have seen their faces. The Cheerleader gets the math award? WHAaaT?
Always keep them guessing….
That & the Art Award (obviously), I was on my way to The University of Guelph for a Bachelor of Fine Arts.
Faced with severe bulimia, anorexia, several stupid assholes, self-harm and a suicidal SHIT ON ME FEST – I came out as Prettyhate. Having more than what I needed of The Rock Bottom Period.
……minus a degree.

I now reside with my lifemate and 4 month old Baby Boy. Aaron and Sammy.
We have a Champion Yorkshire named Maple, a Cattledog and tuxedo Cat.

I am a painter after that and before anything else.
I believe that happiness is a state of mind. Throw situation and context out the window.
I feel like going into my current research topic for my upcoming paint collection – but it is 5:10 AM and I should be getting a few hours in before the babe wakes up for some more Parent’s Choice.

Oh yeah…I don’t believe in God.

This might just turn me into an insomniac again.

***unfinished****