Coffee is Just Delicious

I’m chillin’ in this Barnes and Noble coffee shop, and the thought hit me dead in the chest: I LOVE COFFEE SHOPS. Yep, super hip right? I’m even rocking my slightly disheveled top-knot and Forever 21 earrings. I should probably take a Polaroid of it. But, no, seriously, I love coffee shops because people are so friendly! And smart people hang out in places like this: students, fledgling novelists, bookworms, fashionista types, brooding men with beards…it is awesome.

And coffee, is my latest obsession. My friends drink a lot of coffee-so consider the bandwagon jumped. My favorite drink is a Venti, iced, decaf Cinnamon Dolce Latte with whipped cream. I could gulp down 3 of those bad boys a day, if they were not 5 dollars a pop. I ain’t Donald Trump, okay.

In other news, I am on a frantic job hunt (like always), and about to trade in my vagabond roots (temporarily) so I can ya know, afford gasoline. I went to a staffing agency, and talked to this dashing young gentleman, and as I was leaving a nice stranger in the lobby gave me a 10 page list of great job sites that hire immediately! She just started talking to me, and told me exactly what to do to get the job I want. AWESOME. Holy cow, there are nice people out there, who would have thought it. Very encouraging.

I’m rambling here. I have a lot on my mind. Last night I had a serious of grotesque nightmares all night, about murders, robberies and deaths. It was simply awful. And I know the reason why: I constantly sit at home and watch the First 48 on A & E. I have got to stop; before I was not convinced I had to cut back, but now I know I have to quit-that stuff is messing with my subconcious mind!

Alright, this has become lengthy enough.

P.S. – a big bohemian THANK YOU to all my friends who support me by reading my blog, and giving me feedback. You all rock! šŸ™‚

La vie boheme!

MVH

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Playgrounds, Rollercoasters and Medication

Michael Jackson is still alive. Well, I am choosing to believe so, because I refuse to admit the harrowing truth. I never liked his music very much until I turned 18. Before that, all I could appreciate was his close-up pelvic-thrusting, atop a car, in the music video for Black or White. Ooh, baby.

Now, my interest is centered on the man himself, who he was: just a misunderstood, quirky, over-sensitive drug addict. Harmless, really. I am basing this opinion solely on keen observation, and have come up with a basic analysis of the King of Pop.

Let me break down the issue here.

Michael was just looking for friendships in the wrong places. He was hurt over events that happened when he was a child, that he never got enough therapy to overcome. So, he sat there, at 40 years old in some fantasy-land stupor, eyes glazed, talking about ponies and rainbows and ferris wheels.

All he wanted was love and he knew his fans loved him more than anyone else. His obsession with children stemmed from his admiration over their innocent love for the world, their joy, their happiness, etc. He coveted that, and wished to live vicariously through them.

I think he had up such a facade. It was apparent in the way that he spoke: like a child. He totally over-accentuated that baby talk to make him appear as vulnerable as he probably felt. In his mind, he was always being victimized. My theory is that he led a secret life full of drugs. I personally believe cocaine is to blame for the fact that his nose had to be attached to his face by a series of supports.

His nose was eroded away from drug use, mostly. No one could be that vain, come on, it had to be something more than childhood insecurity that made him do that. Also, he was like 100 pounds and 5’11’. What the heck, right? Again: drug use.

The only logical way that he could tour the world and remain energetic, was likely drugs of all sorts. Rumor has it, that he had lupus and various other rare diseases; plus transient insomnia caused by stress and abusing prescription drugs. The guy was a physical wreck, along with all his mental instabilities.

As far as the child molestation thing goes, that guy couldn’t molest anyone. He was framed because he was the perfect candidate: hermit, odd, living alone, older man with tons of money: PERFECT. So, the kids lied for the adults and poor Michael was in a world of dog crap.

It boggles my mind that people are still out there, ferociously fighting via YouTube comments about how he was a pervert and molester, so on and so forth. No. Just, no.

Anyway, I love his music and legacy despite the apparent lunacy. Whatever. He was as weird as they come, and the world needs strange, eccentric, stylish people to keep it revolving. Good thing he’s still alive šŸ˜‰

La Vie Boheme!

MVH

A Little Something About Joan Baez

I am tired. I could just crawl right back into my bed. It seems like I only want to sleep when I know I ‘should’ be up. Annoying, really. Do you know how sometimes you can wake up in a mood for a certain type of music/artist that you listen to all day? Well, I am sure that has happened…today, i just do not have a music mood. I am usually into two similar sounding bands, at the same time, day to day. For example on Monday it is Fleet Foxes and Vetiver; Tuesday it is Jimi Hendrix and the Black Keys, etc.

Since I have nothing, I am going to go with what I know will always be an amazing choice: Joan Baez. Now, half of you reading this are squinting at the name and putting it into Google, the other half are smiling slightly right along with me.

I mean, Joan is like…a queen. Bob Dylan once described her voice as having the ability to ‘jar a corpse’. He is totally right on that account. I am going to come out right now and say that I am very affronted by Top 40 music (unless it’s Adele), and avoid it at all costs. But some of that crap, has entered my brain along the way, and I cannot help but wonder who the hell would want to listen to Katy Perry over Joan Baez? Justin Beiber over Donovan? Selena Gomez over The Cars? (only in their Heartbeat City days, of course). It just doesn’t make sense.

So, today I shall celebrate the Saturday afternoon with some Joan Baez; somehow it seems fitting enough.

La Vie Boheme!

MVH

Brain Droppings

So. This is my first post, I feel I should summarize what this blog is going to be about-so you can decide whether to leave now or stick around. Iā€™m Marjani-Viola, 20 years old,
journalism student, writer, amauter photographer, neo-hippie type, yada yada,
I am also very opintionated so I thought Iā€™d put my slightly cynical outlook to
some use. Anyway, Iā€™m going to be blogging about a variety of subjects because
I have a variety of interests. See, its equal. I will be writing on the following subjects and more: anarchism, communism, art, feminism, social topics, current events, music, fashion and photography. Pretty much anything that I would like to share, will end up here; including much of my own work/creations.

I’m sure I should put a photograph of myself on here, so this is what I look like:

La vie boheme!

MVH