Will You Understand?

you're handsome. 

beautiful even. 

but i'm not the kind of person that feels comfortable coming out and saying it 

just 

like 

that.

at least not to your face. 

it's difficult enough saying it here, knowing you'll find this and read it.

and at some point you'll even realize it's about you. 

i went to go get something from my room.

you told me:

"i kinda sortof really think i might be love you."

i stopped. turned around. walked back to you.

kissed you. 

i told you: 

"i know i'm in love with you."

why don't you remember?

anyway, it's become apparent that 

i don't know how

to be romantic anymore.

i'm sorry.

yours until the pigs fly,

alessondra marie

The Point Is?

i click back and forth between a flying penguin game and facebook. each time i make the transition to check on facebook, i want to return to it less and less. all everyone does is complain. 


i'm sorry if you spilt your milk, but must you announce it to the world? i'm nearly positive no one really cares. 


perhaps it's boredom, or the need for attention. all the "awh, i love you's" and the "text me's" are kind and sweet. but i can't shake the feeling that facebook is just another way to get attention. 


our world is dysfunctional because of it's accessibility to personal feelings. emotions that were once known as sacred are now thrown around as if they don't matter. 


we lose the chance to tell our close friends whats going on in our lives on a personal level. instead it's "oh yeah, i saw that on facebook."


although proven to be convenient, text messaging and social networking are both a false means of communication. 


i have lost all purpose for this blog. 


yours until the pigs fly,
alessondra marie

Summer Lovin'

there is nothing more lovely than feeling of the warm sun kiss your crisp white skin. i used to think of myself as a winter person, but i've recently discovered an admiration for the heat. may this be the first of many summer days baking under the warm sun.

yours until the pigs fly,

alessondra marie

Much Like Alice

my first words as a baby were, "what's that." appropriately, it came out of my mouth sounding more like "whaasat?" but regardless of my pronunciation, my first utterance has reflected the theme of my existence.


my life has been constantly and consistently tinged with curiosity. 


i often find the world's reality and my imagination clashing. at times like that i relentlessly ask "why?"


seldom do i get an answer.


and alas, here i am posing a question: 
"why am i like this?" 


my desire for knowledge is bittersweet. 
i have yet to find out if it's a valuable attribute, or a sweet downfall.


yours until the pigs fly,
alessondra marie

Nikki Sixx Taught Me Today

i am  guilty of judging people according to their shell.

i don't do it often, but i most certainly have been a sinful judge. 

my dad has this book called This is Gonna Hurt: Music, Photography, and Life Through the Distorted Lens of Nikki Sixx. 

i've opened this book many times, but only today did it hit me. 

"Like everything else-all the music and lyrics, the videos, and now the photographic images-they all boil down to a single moment of creation: me sitting here alone at Funny Farms, writing to you from my heart, trying as i always have, since i was a kid, to say, 'Look how beautiful that is." I remember hearing many times, "Don't point at people less fortunate than yourself,' to which I exclaimed, 'But they're beautiful!'" 

somehow, through Nikki Sixx's distorted childhood, he still saw appeal in people and things that i wouldn't ordinarily consider beautiful. 

some people, myself included, believe that those who have only been surprised by misfortune often see more beauty in life and in their surroundings than those of us that have had a cushioned life.

it's all a matter of perspective. 

Nikki and his daughter, Storm, went for a walk one day. the sidewalk was framed with roses. when Storm pointed one out, Nikki plowed it to the ground, forcing all the petals to fall. she told him he destroyed its beauty. but he insisted that it still was beautiful, it was just different than before. 

humans are the same way. we all start out as a perfect rose, but life hit's us onto the floor, disrupting our "beauty". 

our petals might fall off and we might look ugly and destroyed. 

but it doesn't mean we are ugly. it means we fell, and we need a hand up.

which makes us more vulnerable than ever.

sometimes we just need someone to stick by and tell us just how beautiful we are.

we're all different. we're all damaged. 

so why point out our flaws when we can point out the beauty in each other? 

yours until the pigs fly,

alessondra marie