I'm back.

It's home.

I've got things to do.


(I've posted this song before. I don't care.)

Apparently, inspiring things.

Female student at Pratt Institute, Brooklyn, working with an oxy-acetylene cutter. Date unknown.
(Pratt Institute Libraries)

(Lily Elise, Edwardian actress)

(Bogota, Capital of Colombia)

(Fetish Fiesta, by toerning on deviantart)



(Zoe Saldana, actress)

(Please, if any of you knows the sources for the uncredited photographs, please tell me so I can credit them properly)

PS. I got a tumblr! My username is, surprisingly, Elviella. Tell me if you use it too, I'd love to find you there as well. C:

1.20

My thoughts run through my fingers when I write.
I feel them take shape and become coherent, become true. Their essence is in the words, and the essence of the words is in the writings.
I only really think, really concentrate when I write. The rest of the time my thoughts are endless chains running around my head.
I once read a book about a girl who wrote. That girl wrote because only then she could think. Reading that book, I realised how true that was for me as well.
When I write, and when I talk, is when I truly think. It's easier, much easier to concentrate on something serious then. And then the thoughts run through my fingers and onto the paper, or through my tongue and onto the air. I hear them, I read them, and they're crystal clear, existing and constant.
That's why I need to write. Now I know.

Oh, hi there, summer.

I didn't really see you coming.

Please, wait a little for me to get used to you. I need you and I don't want you to pass without realising your presence.

Welcome in my heart.

PS. I should seriously rethink my latest blogging choices and write something longer than, say, five lines. Yeah.

Sometimes I get annoyed.

There's no more to it.

Just, sometimes, I get annoyed.


[rather unrelated song that I absolutely love]

What I do.

Exams have been taking their toll on me. I remember the times in middle school, when it was all easy to study and take breaks like a normal person and sleep at a logical hour.

There are so many things I want to do instead of studying.

There are films I want to watch and comics I want to buy and stuff I feel like writing and paintings I want to paint and food to cook and places, places to be and walk and sunbathe in.

Instead, I'm at home. I plaid my hair. I open the fridge's door, I close it. I switch the computer on, I switch it off. I should study, and the internet is delicious. IshouldstudyIshouldstudyIshouldstudy.

I hear people talking about the exams - "I studied for one hour. Come on, what was there to study?" "I studied for two hours, but really did it all" "I was out with this person and that person, but then I studied and I was okay."

I studied for a whole day, and I took breaks every five minutes, and then I woke up in the middle of the night because I had a weird dream that involved Latin and Lost (yeah, the tv show and the subject I was supposed to study). My mom, forever the insomniac, was in the living room watching the bonus features in the Lost dvds. I studied for a bit because I had only read each text once and then slept and then my alarm clock didn't ring.

I am alive, but I feel like my breaths are not well spent.

There's always mustard in my sandwich.

My friend said on Friday that it was anti-diet day and I thought it was so cool! In general I'm anti-day anything, but a day against diets sounds most certainly awesome.

So Friday being the last day of school, we had a lot of spare time... and we went to eat!

As I frequently say to my mom, if my family has taught me anything for sure, it is the importance of enjoying my food.

My family is the awesomest.