:: these were the thoughts ::
1994. october.11 years old. fifth grade. alejandra jaramillo. jagged little pill. tracks 2 and 13 scratched. tracks 1, 12, 11, and 7 favorites. eight awards. first picture. mtv. black sweater. long hair. 1998. 14 years old. the entire wall is full of pictures. supposed former infatuation junkie. favorite cd. pollyanna flower. venezuela. lost contest. decay of the interest.
2004. may. almost 20 years old. fourth semester. by myself. so called chaos. awful. no more pictures on the wall. no hair, no life.
one can say it only lasted ten years, quite a bit; one can say it was an entire lifetime dedicated to the contemplation of the beauty presupposed in the astounding discovery of someone else's words deep within one's self.___i suppose there is not much i can do now to prevent this recognition of decay behind the intention of having such a wall in my room, i can safely say there is nothing in the music, the lyrics or the person that could make me believe that a strong bond with my own self stands in virtue of what i once believed to be amazingly beautiful character.__and so the wall comes off and a disappointing pinkish tone sees the light for the first time in a decade, there is much painting to do, and much remodeling within me to complete.__goodbye miss morissette, it was good while it lasted.
coming in through my ears::a terrible movie with goldie hawn (?) and mel gibson