WHY I FKKN LOVE MY SISTER!

1 Love T.O. was holding a contest for tickets to the Kid Cudi show in 3 weeks. I put in my little two cents of why I need to go to the concert but check what this bitch said:

i gotta give this a shot..

i was reading what other people wrote but i decided to stop cuz i gotta write this from my heart.

not only am i a huge fan of kid cudi the artist, but also of scot mescudi the man.

he’s real, he’s original, he’s raw and he’s pure talent. his music speaks to me on a level no other artist has reached. each word touches my heart, each beat makes my head nod. his life and career is inspiration to me to live my life to the fullest and reach every dream my kush powered mind conjures up, no matter how extreme and unlikely they might be. he really makes me think i can do anything, because he did it. and he’s just a regular guy. i feel like man on the moon is literally the soundtrack to my life. its like he somehow recorded my whole life and put all 18 years into an album.

“Ive got some issues that nobody can see, and all of these emotions are pouring out of me.”
somehow, even though he is a 24 year old dude from Cleveland and im an 18 year old girl from scarborough.. he understands.

everyone knows that when your a teenager you go through things, its a difficult time meant for learning and growing. but many artists forget what its like because their caught up with how they’re currently living. they’ve forgotten how they got to that point. they didnt always have the money, cars, clothes and hoes. and he knows that, i love that he isnt caught up. he’s still just scot mescudi to me. and he will always be, no matter where the fame takes him. and thats why i want to see him in person. i have to witness the creative genius that is kid cudi live, i want to see the way he moves when he’s on stage, i want to hear his voice live, i want to see how different songs make him feel. and i want to see him now, when he’s still new and fresh. before he starts playing big arenas and i’ll only be able to see him from the very last row… im no rockefeller.

basically, his shit’s more refreshing than the nestea plunge,

i wont be able to accept it if he’s in toronto, playing a small intimate show, and im not there. i just cant. i feel like its my duty to him to go, to show him that he has real fans up here. real fans that dont like him because he’s cute or has swag. real fans that know the words to more that just day n nite, and they actually understand what that song is about. real fans that didn’t just hop on the bandwagon after they heard him on 808’s and heartbreak. real fans that care about the content of his music, real fans that listen to the words, and real fans that will find a way to be at that show. i am a real fan, and i hope that 1LOVE TO will be my way.

-dee

Thanks Sister!

Im Home

alright so take it in.. I'm back in Toronto

I needed this, come back to the roots, be myself again. Ottawa had me stressed.
So now im here and I feel like the Amanda in Ottawa is shitty compared to the Amanda in Toronto. I missed myself.

but it feels kinda weird, like I'm a guest in my own house, whatever better then shitty shitty Ottawa

But yeah Rogers did me soo wrong.. so right now I don't have a Text plan and apparently its 15cents to receive and send a text, So I wont be doing either right now. have Something to tell me either call (and keep it short cuz I only got 200 minutes) or send a text, Im able to read approximately 6 words without opening it.

...get at me

this is my shit

btw promise next time Imma keep it 100 with everything going on

im here

AAAHhhhh god sorry for not posting but damn school is getting to me hardcore. Its a matter of feeling like im always behind and then being off campus and not knowing when my next meal is coming and what its going to be... and then there are other things too. Not ready to share quite yet sorry.

But I am alive and well, if you were wondering. I have alot of shit to do though
Friday going to New Jersey - Grand dad renewing vows (hopefully ill have poictures)
The Next weekend is Thanksgiving - going home
The Next weekend may or may not be going to Montreal... gotta see what the economy is saying in my pocket

Got a job... pretty shitty though, But its just the job before a get a better one

Wish me luck with life, feel like im slipping away....

what goin on in life?

Since this is basically my last week here in Toronto, I am trying to have last chill session with all of my friends.

So two days ago, I went to the Science Centre with Randal, (yeah that same guy that I spent caribanna with) and I was deceived by this centre a few times.

First - they don't have that human body exhibit anymore. No more skeletons and muscles and all that stuff, yet they still have those pictures up!
Second - The snakes a lizards were cool, only I thought I was gonna be able to hold on, i guess not
Third - All the snakes and Lizards were sleeping, except this one green snake. But I didn't pay my money to watch you sleep. I want all the snakes and lizards to be on attack mode when I come, or at least run on water like you do in the picture beside you, or eat a live rat or something, anything interesting.
Forth - There were no butterflies in the butterfly garden
Fifth - If you are over 15, then your too old to be going to the science centre. The whole time I was thinking "I remember is being a lot more fun the last time I came." (which was 15 year's ago... lol) But yea i was just 5 years expired, i still had fun though

Then After that I went to help Vanessa pack and everything because she was leaving for Montreal the next morning. And i got peppermint tea, dunkaroos and a drive home from it.

I hope your doing well, all alone in that apartment of yours
(I know she wont see this because she don't have internet yet, sux)

Yesterday got my hair done, chilled with sister, went on adventures and to Shoeless Joes, had spicy food (which I felt on the other end this morning, wasnt pleasant) and now I'm here, waiting for 3 so I can go shopping with sister

Aug 20th Thunderstorm: The Reflection

The Storm
A reflection on the storm of August 20, 2009
by Bryan Espiritu

The sky lowered by floors and floors, nearly touching the lake water and shortening the fall for each sheet of rain that flew sideways and downward towards the surface of the water and the street. The sound of windows quickly sliding, slamming and clicking shut made drums in the intermissions of rumbling skies, so dark you couldn’t estimate the time of day, or night. Flat portions of sidewalk squares turned to rivers and even entirely wet with rain, pedestrians jumped to dodge the flushing waters that hurdled over everything in the streets. Windows shut became our shields. The screens became our screens; the lightening, our projectors. Slowly, the cinema unfolded and the scenes rapidly replayed across the glass. The clouds so heavy with anger their colour darkened beyond the exhausts of their foes. Exhausted with fear, we clutched to our phones, relying on our sense of attachment to one another to feel safe. The black turned orange. The orange turned yellow. And we waited for it to turn white. To turn light. So we could stop thinking about God and the frights that filled us like Arks of times once past. In 2 days the projected forecast would be clear and sunny. No chance of rain. And we would forget how we clutched to our imaginary friends in vain like our interwound web was no more than a trap. The thunder applauded our bravery. Clap. And each thought we had to reflect on our unsavory actions would wash away as quickly as the passing storm.

It was entirely natural, but certainly not the norm. So far from it in fact that the elderly dawned faces that they had never expressed in decades past – faces of disbelief, dread, and lastly, calm.

The glow of the aftermath did not equate that we had come to a solution, nor found a heaven. Yet we basked in the yellowish glare as if to work on our tans. To better our looks, but not our views. We were thankful that we had not shipped, sunk, like animals paddling through waters in twos. And the orange sky burned through our panes as if to tell us that the tone of our lives was not our choice. Please give us a rainbow. Like with a child’s voice asking for something colourful to deter this dark. The scrapes that had covered with blood, our knees, as Mother Nature stared on in disbelief. Honest relief with no ark, no ark. Fear covered in the shelter of a heart.

We’d need another ‘fore the foolish became the smart.

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