Natasha Khan of Bat For Lashes has been playing repeatedly on my itunes. Ever since her first album release, I have been hooked. Her style and her haunting voice, scary and melodic at the same time. Something you hear as the soundtrack of my dreams or edgar allen poe's for that matter.

Why I love her:

1. She's beautiful.
2. She's a mixed mama. Pakistani and English.
3. Her songs remind me of what would be playing if we lived in a world like Grimms Fairytales.
4. She has wicked style.
5. She rocks war paint make-up.
6. She sings about dreams.
7. She used to be a nursery school teacher. (imagine her idea of story time for kids)
8. She's born in October!
9. She is more badass than Bjork.
10. Her new album Two Suns is wonderful. Check out Daniel her single from the album and try not to sway slowly.

LMAO...What the hell is Cambodia?

I absoultely love this girl! Her inquiries couldn't be more true about my other half, Khmer that is! And if you don't know what Khmer is, well it's what Cambodians refer to themselves as. And if you don't know what Cambodia is, which sadly I've come to the conclusion most people don't, well thats either just sad and/or ignorant. A lot, and I mean a lot of people who aren't of Asian descent do not have nay idea where Cambodia is! It always amazes me how many people share this magical view of Asians! They think Asia only consists Chinese and know Southeast Asia only by Vietnam. HELLOOOOOOO??!?!?! Heres a history lesson for ya. There are more than 2 countries that comprise Asia.I know OMFG shocking right? Hahaha. There is Cambodia, Thailand, Laos, Burma, Malaysia, Sri Lanka and parts of Russia that are in Asia people! No this didn't just happen. We come in all different shades. Some common misconceptions about Cambodians that I hate:
- People assume we're the dark asians. Excuse me??? Some are light skin and some are dark, just like any other race.
- We speak the weirdest. (No. We speak Khmer. We have a written language that is linked to sanskrit writing. We also speak French. If you knew your history, you'd know that the French occupied Cambodia for a time and the French language and culture is present there in some aspects)
- Oh you guys are like Vietnamese right? (No! Vietnamese are like Vietnamese. We are another country in SE Asia. We have different language, culture, customs, etc.)

Hey guys, just because Angelina Jolie stole, oops! I mean adopted a Cambodian boy, doesn't mean that Khmer people all of a sudden came out of hiding and emerged out of nowhere.

Cultural ignorance annoys me. But this girl's video made me laugh!
In case, you were wondering, my other ethnicity is Puerto Rican. Don't get me started on the misconceptions about that ethnicity haha.

Origami Rose

I was bored and being that I just finished organizing my closet for the 3rd time this week, I surfed the web. And yes, I am using that term "surf" because that is literally what I did. I googled a prehistoric sea monster, liopluredon, and then my connection cut off. It was a really good picture of it too, so I found myself waiting for the connection to restart. Previous to this, I had just received the new NYLON July "Music Issue" which made me despise even more the-hipster generation, yet I succumb to the hypocrisy of it all with a subscription. But...it
IS a free subscription. I'd like to believe that if I truly held this magazine in high regards a paid subscription would've been no problem to me. Out of my discreet frustration with this magazine which preaches individuality, yet showcases drunk pre-pubescent rich girls and guys and delivers a seemingly "drab" same-old condescending intake on art,culture and fashion, an artful creation was made. Falling out on the floor was one of the twenty some subscription inserts. I took one out, examined it (the price that is...) and went to throw it out along with its other evil paper companions. Then suddenly I had to urge to take one insert out of the trash bin and start crafting an origami rose. I did it within 1 minute and it looked beautiful. It came from a piece of trash literally and metaphorically speaking. While origami-ing, I was recalling 2nd grade class, Mrs. Feng. She always had time for an origami session despite the poor Philadelphia learning curriculum, which in the end teaches you how to hate a subject. Interestingly enough, although I remembered Mrs. Feng teaching us how to make frogs, cranes, and lobsters during these origami sessions, the rose is all that I could remember how to successfully make. I remembered the moments I had when trying to pass time or show off some random talent, I would tell people about how I could make a rose in 1 minute out of any paper. The memories of her came flooding into me. Her system of rewards for excellent achievement was small gifts and novelty items. Back to my present state of mind, an upcoming sophomore in college.....I finished the rose. Then as if my mind was only filtering academic aspects, I randomly thought of 4th grade, Ms.Katz. Her communistic rule about being "quiet" and proper. But surprisingly enough her passion for art. I joined the art club set up by Ms. Katz, and I was amazed. She wasn't discriminatory with art. Art to her was what it was to his/her creator which was something that should be equally admired by all, despite style. And then it came to me, another random memory. The origami rose. One art club day she told the other class members of the club about a rose she saw me making out of used up math test scrap paper ( i put shit to use, you see!). She insisted that I teach the art club members including herself how to make it. Well I did teach them and her, and I will never forgot how insightful she was to every step and everything I said. She wasn't interrupting me, making me seen diminutive, she allowed herself to be a student,a learner. Well, after that I liked her and looked at her in a new way. The memories of these two teachers made me pissed off. They were true educators, maybe even more and I loved them for that. True educators... never would I have thought of actually thinking those words given the anti-authority and disgust for the education I have today in America. I kept thinking of how much I despised age, maturity and future goals. It seems as if only wonderful moments and people are allowed to enter and briefly inspire your life because it is obligatory to our being. We are told over and over again when we are young to be "yourself", that we all have special talents and to always follow your dream. As a kid you are blinded by the fake presentations of happy lives, as if they were created out of "The Barney Bag." Then you start growing up, maturing, then it happens...high school. You've just went through hell in 7th grade to get your grades good enough for a shitty Philadelphia public school to accept you, lest you get killed in your neighborhood school. The pressure for future plans was set in 7th grade, and the pursuit for things that "made us unique" or allowed us to "follow are desired dreams" were lost. Then we get into high school to only get into college. More lies we piled on our college apps. to disgustingly and without integrity make it into a "good" college. All to be broke, stressed out, become jerks, whores, and perfection obsessed robots. We turned into shit. We then looked back and reminisced about the good ol' times and in time we found a way to blame the past. We started saying things like "if I only did better in high school, or if I concentrated more on my studies than my art and skateboarding..." And we kept putting the blame game on the past for our present failures and disappointments in life. And yes we had the right to be pissed off at the past for filling us up with false hopes, but we also hated ourselves for letting those hopes get lost in the translation of growing up. Or maybe not even that, maybe it got lost in the pursuit of a "better" life and not a "happier" life. We turned into shit, but we were still trying to turn ourselves into better shit. Not mut shit, but poodle shit. No.NO.No.Better...shit after we've eaten caviar and not cheetos. We turned into shit. We turned into shit, but I just made a damn cute little rose out of some paper shit. The origami rose-made from some paper shit lying around. If only people could take themselves out of the trash and make some "good shit" out of themselves. Instead we all get recycled and wait for some force to pick them out of the bin and turn them into something better, but not beautiful. I'm may just be God, if I can turn shit into a rose. Origami rose- a beautiful piece of shit.