Monday

I'm on my way I'm making it.

Who is to draw the line between what goes to heaven (if you even believe in that sort-of thing) and what does not? People think they are such superior beings due to their ability to contemplate their existence, but who says animals or apes cannot? Sure, they don't tell us that because they don't speak (at least in any language that we can understand). Maybe they are also contemplating their existence or why they remain but they just can't convey it to us in any form. It seems ignorant to rule out everything else and say human beings are the only souls who go to heaven. If we evolved from mere bacteria where do we draw the line? Or is there no heaven and hell at all? Do you really believe that if "God" loved us he would cast us into a fiery pit for the rest of eternity? That is why hell seems so unfeasible to me. If "God" created the universe and everything in it he also created evil. People may say that along with creating free will came evil but I don't buy it. Funny to also think that we're not necessarily at the top of the food chain. Bacteria from which we came from can also destroy us.

Now for some optimism: I wrote Quentin Tarantino a letter about how I want to design costumes for his movies. I sealed it with a kiss and I'm also hoping for an autograph on my Jackie Brown poster along with a response!

I'm hoping to make it big time.
love, polly
I made my tattoo appointment at It's Just a Little Prick in Decatur, Illinois. Here is my receipt!
50 dollars down, 150 more to go! 
love, polly

Sunday

The actor performs his part; no one is listening

OH HOW I WISH I LIVED IN BROOKLYN.

The house at 59 Orient Avenue in Brooklyn has seen brighter days. After being featured in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, as Kate Winslet's apartment, the 1899 era home quickly turned into a Club Med for meth addicts and squatters alike—which predictably didn't please the neighbors. But the house just went back on the market, and now that Michel Gondry is living on the block, is there hope? Will the director be unable to bare the sight of his Clementine's home getting turned over to the riff raff again? Probably. But just incase, Flavorwire has pleaded with him to purchase it. Here are some interior shots from the last time it was up for grabs—Gondry's imagination may be the only thing that can save this place.
-Gothamist.com

Weird how things sort-of happen and by happen I am referring literally to stumbling. Things have been beautiful but not too surreal in the life of Polly Bland but nevertheless there has not been a single dull moment according to the ticking of the clock hand. Even sleeping has been a trip to the past and future and it seems as irked as I am about certain dream experiences, I probably wouldn't change them. I'm loving life and trying to make all the right choices and leave wrong ones of the past settling in the stinging dust.
 Nostalgia is a hard fact of life for some and as the years pass it seems to worsen. I don't get too caught up in it. For me it is more of a growing experience rather than a let down. Breaking out of the bonds and people who shaped you is part of growing and living on your own. Sure, I wish things were the way they used to be for a few hours, but isn't forging on one of the pivotal life experiences that makes us one?

love, polly

Thursday

I'm not sure that I even know me.

I don't ever want to put my feelings on the back-burner. Life may tell me that I need to experience other people, other beds, but I don't feel the need to until I'm completely sure. At first I was sure, then tempted due to what I thought of as an "essential need" but now I believe I'm back at the beginning or the so called "chopping block." No, I don't write for anyone anymore. It's a lonely world I thrive in, I try to make the most out of what I can. Getting to know relatives better and my friends has occupied my time very nicely as well as the new born bunny I am now fostering until it's eyes open. I hope I'll be considered as mother, or else my heart will break. My mother told me last night that her ex husband burned the best diary she's ever written. I asked her for her diaries but alas the meatiest one lie in ashes scattered by a man who shat on her so many times it took her seven years to realize it. She told me she could barely function after she left him. He set her belongings ablaze. I feel as if the half has been done to my heart so far but I try to forge on with life and reality has taken a huge bite out of my self-confidence and sparkle. It's definitely not the same world I'm used to. It's hollow and fleeting; I can barely even remember my dreams when I wake. Do they mean anything? They've been so confusing lately, and they never seem to suffice. Decisions take at least ten days to make and have to be thoroughly thought through before any steps of action are completed. Life gets more confusing as I go on. But with every year I feel wiser than the last and every relationship woe can be avoided by immediate contact and listening. I don't feel that I'll be a fool as I was in the past. Tiny subtle things are the biggest facts I take into account. Maybe it's because of my heart. It feels so small and shriveled and it's all due to myself breaking it. There is no one else to blame except for me. I must live with this decision and stick by it if I am to live. 
love, polly

Monday

The Current River

I will never forget my friends from Edwardsville. They taught me everything. They love unconditionally like I have known them all my life, and I couldn't be more thankful. Here are a few pictures from our float trip last weekend.




Sunday

Is just being pretty ever really enough?

Of course it's not. Since when has anyone been completely satisfied with their life? Does being pretty make you feel more satisfied with your life than having a cup of black coffee every morning? People who look at themselves in the mirror constantly probably feel better about themselves, but for me it just doesn't cut it. Where does the nitty gritty part of life start? That's just what I want to find. Stable routines that are performed every day and you always know they will be there for you. Has my new found coffee habit replaced stable relationships in my life? Has a sense of fashion dominated my passion for the environment? Sort-of. It scares me finally picking one venue for my life to slide on because I am interested in so many different things. It's wrong to tell a high schooler that he/she has to decide exactly what to do with his/her life. No one knows what they want to do right off the bat and someone who has only had say eighteen years of experience could end up making the worst mistake of his/her life by deciding to go or not to go to college. Unless if you're one of those freaks who has known they wanted to be a doctor since they were five. Do I know if fashion design is the right choice for me? At the moment. I believe I have to take my feelings just as they come because what else am I to do with my worn in life? No, I don't feel worn out, just worn in. It's a nice, cozy feeling I might add. Knowing a little more about yourself and how the world around you works is nice, too. It gets awfully lonely in my world sometimes, but I like to think of it as a meditation time. I try not to cling to anything or anyone and addictions scare me. So how am I to perform every day tasks like going to work? Even rituals scare me. I just HATE the thought of having to do the same exact thing every morning. It scares me more than I can say. Is it because I have relationship/commitment issues? Maybe. If I don't know then it's a sure bet no one else does. It's weird when you don't even really have yourself figured out. Eventually I will know why I feel a certain way when someone looks me in the eye. Some day I'll figure out why I can't form words and complete thoughts around new acquaintances. Eventually I'll stop writing down in this blog and get a real journal. Eventually I'll die. This leads me to a conclusion. What is it? Hrmpf. You don't have to be pretty in order to get somewhere in life. You don't have to be book smart. You have to be a person. You have to have individuality. Guts. You have to sacrifice a lot. In my version of my perfect life.. it would be me. Maybe a cat. Maybe a nice apartment with lavender walls and a freshly picked rose at the side of my bed. No, it doesn't include anyone else except for my friends and family. That scares me but I can't bring my mind to imagine myself under different circumstances. But I get so lonely sometimes..
love, polly

Tuesday

Without you today's emotions would be the scurf of yesterday's.

I often ask why I forced myself to love someone. For I was only a girl who thought she knew what she could control. Having been in love only once before I did not know quite how it happened when I was 15. I figured I could forge the recipe to relieve certain stresses the year had brought me after the break up. Did I really intend on forcing myself to act as in love with someone? Nothing else sparkled about it. Maybe he was a good person at heart, but sooner or later it tends and tended to show. I believe I forced myself to feel something for someone else who was otherwise unloveable due to the mere fact that I needed to move on with life. He was my means to an end and I didn't care much who got hurt. Unfortunately life isn't always what you wanted or expected it to be, and I've come to see that over the past couple years. I often wonder about the past and knowing everything that I know now, I would have changed many things. Then again, those things made me what I am today and I know I would be different even if a single person didn't or did step into my life at a certain time. People don't just come into your life for no reason. Everyone is pivotal whether they remain for a week or even years. You learn something about yourself every single day, right? At least that is the way I try to live. That might be the way to live for eternity. I forgive myself for past wronging and try to make each day count to the fullest. Every once in a while I get down on myself but I don't think anyone can truly know themselves or be an actual human being without being in a very low point at some time in their lives. It hit me, like a whirlwind, raging in all different directions. It would never stop and still hasn't. I can't bear to bring myself to brush lips with anyone except him. I find it sad in the highest degree but cannot seem to bring myself to closure. He knows it and I do. But life gets pretty surreal when your first love has moved on in a drastic way that you could never even begin to fathom. Gone are the days where I loved being alive and played amongst the trees. Gone are the days of the first taste of that love that was so vibrant. Gone are my feelings and believing that love would last forever. No, I do not think the right answer to dealing with a love lost is to bury yourself in other men's arms for the mere sake of trying to feel again. Whatever the answer is it lies deep beneath your breast. Then again, who even knows if it comes from your heart? When you feel like you cannot live anymore, take a step back and realize that your first is over. You must now join the real world and accept that other people have been used just like you, and are also there to use you as well... IF YOU LET THEM. There is a certain calming aspect to the view that everyone's fantasy is over, though, it's a common place where broken hearts collide and try to find real love. The kind that people don't have to acknowledge to each other, they just know. I intend to hold myself with a certain aspect of pride, I do. No one and nothing is going to get in my way of career goals and what I want. It's in the creases of my worn palms and I will not stop until my bloody finger nails are fixed around my prize.

Sunday

This used to be your life

You didn't come out of dust. You've been here for a very long time. Carried in your ancestors. You are half of your mother, and half your father. Some of your grandparents, some of your great grandparents, some of your distant aunt who lived a thousand years ago. Traits and looks carry on through person to person. Whomever they may be, I like to look at it like that used to be your former life. Now, reincarnation isn't far from my mind, either, but I'm not absolutely positive on those views. I suppose that's why being related to someone famous in the past is so stellar because you came from that person so you must have a tiny shred of them left in you. And it's nice because people recognized this person's talent or drive and it was so strong that they became famous. Lineage is such an awesome thing to ponder. And I couldn't have come from anyone better than my mother! What an awesome person.
love, polly

Cigarettes, wine, and a numb that isn't so comfortable

I'm holding a freshly lit cigarette in my left hand, and the red wine I bought earlier that day. As I roll through the town I feel so empty and hopeless: those jumbled along with heartless and a tingly numbing feeling I like to think of as lust. A lust that has been lost, of course. No, I don't feel a thing as the people look into my eyes for some kind of recognition or approval. What do they want from me? Do they want my soul? It was a sheer struggle for me to be there at all. It didn't matter how many times my friends hugged me or told me that they loved me. I felt nothing and wanted to rip down the world with me in a twisted black hole where not even the dimmest light can survive. Thank god for spring, or else I might have been a zombie. At least I can carry myself with a shred of dignity when there is color outside..

I'm completely alone at a table of friends, I feel nothing for them. Nothing.


You know, sleeping occupies most of my time these days. 
love, polly