You’re friend doesn’t know shit.

I LOOOOOOVE Black goths. Dude, they are a wonderful bunch of people and I’m friends with a bunch.

Like Tropic Goths, they come up against the whole idea that you need to be pale.

AS FUCKING IF.

Be punk rock about that shit! If you have a great fucking natural brown complexion well then, YOU WERE SO GOTH YOU WERE BORN BLACK.

That’s right.

And for my Polynesian titas and braddah men out there, you guys can rock that shit too. Nothing sexier than a Gothwaiian or a Gothanesian.

Follow some great blogs: iamsogothiwasbornblack, blacksheepgoths and of course my crazy ass.

I SEARCH for goths of color. Because we are rare and beautiful birds, like the Hawaiian crow.

Wat? You neva seen one Hawaiian crow?

Tell me dis bugga not cute? Almost as cute as da Hawaiian Bat, o’peape’a.

Neva seen one Hawaiian Bat? Well den, you need fo’ do some research eh?

So I have been slacking on the fashion photos.

I assure you my lovelys, I still dress well or die trying.

Though, the fact that I’m in a public school day in a out makes for a interesting wardrobe. For example, it has taken a decidedly 50’s turn for the fashionable :D

What I made with my kidlings at work

Rocking out my awesome 808 All Day Shirt. On the back it says “Just another day in paradise.” Note the skull skirt and leggings.

As a local Hawaii girl I have always had a female I looked up to who had long hair. I’m not talking shoulder length, I mean down to your ass, down to the floor thick gorgeous never  been dyed Hawaiian goddess hair.

And that long hair isn’t just a coincidence since most local women keep their hair long for Hula where having your hair shorter than back length makes you stick out like a sore thumb.

So of course I told my mother I wanted “fancy girl” hair. I saw my peers at four of five with already hip length hair and I wanted it.

But my hair, while Asian in color and abundance, is European in fineness. It grew in patches, leaving my mother to attempt to cut it all to a uniform length.

Then when I was older I still wanted long hair but I was a tomboy and I hated brushing it. My mother never started at the bottom of my hair. She’d rip through the rats nests until I was crying. I refused to let anyone touch my hair. Which meant it was almost always natted and dredded.

And then of course ukus, or head lice, the bane of any girl or boy in Hawaii. Rid the lice shampoo didn’t work on me and I had it over and over and over again.My mom didn’t cut my hair short like alot of mothers did.

My mom didn’t want me to grow out my hair.

It’ll get stringy. It’ll get yucky.

We disagree on a lot of things. I hate the way she is overly controlling in my life despite the fact I left her house 6 years ago.

But she couldn’t stop me from growing out my hair. I didn’t cut my hair for a year and a half and that is why it’s the insane length it is now. I fucking love my hair. I love how long it is and I even love its fineness now because it is heavy enough as it is.

But I was despairing that I would have to cut it because I want to do more rockabilly hair styles that require hair curling. I don’t blow dry my hair and I don’t hot curl. The rag method wasn’t working.

And then I found this blog!

Rapunzel’s Resource is a blog about styling REALLY long hair like mine. French twist out of your reach?

No problem.

Want gorgeous spiral curls but your hair is down to your ass.

There’s a great tutorial.

A big reason my mom and a lot of people balk at having long hair is the “maintenance.” Well I’m pretty fucking lazy and I can still maintain mine. I use alot of shampoo but by de-tangling with conditioner in the shower, I don’t really need to brush it in the mornings. I keep it in a loose bun when I sleep so it doesn’t tangle when I toss and turn. I brush from the bottom. I use olive oil and coconut oil to condition. I shampoo every two or three days.

So for you Hawaiian girls or Samoan girls or just girls with long hair, don’t despair over cute shorter retro hairstyles. Don’t cut your hair.  Try to work around it, write blog posts and we can all share with each other.

http://rapunzelsresource.wordpress.com/2009/09/18/welcome/#comment-5208

So I saw Gothic Charm School’s Goth Tumblr Swap and I was like …I WANNNA DOO THAAT! And I would totally make a cute cute box for someone FROM MAUI with MAUI STUFF THAT WAS COOL AND GOTHTASITC! So my lovelys, who wants to do a goth tumblr swap? Message me back post haste and you will receive a box full of wonder in exchange of course for a parcel full of darkness. :D

She serenades the ocean

She watches the blue sea

She calls out to the selkies, the mermaids of the deep

She’s calling to her lover

The one she’s yet to meet

His eyes have always haunted her in visions in her sleep

Portrait of a Trumpet Player in Haiku Maui 2009

A Hawai’i Hottopic

Ginsberg,

You thought of Whitman,

Dreamt of him

Molesting peas with bare skinned paper fingers

Thought of him under fluorescents

Placed him on your mental alter of idolitry

Oh great writer who has come before me

Help me navigate through the mundane

Help me wade through this intensive special—

bullshit

But Leaves of Grass

While nice, remain on birthday-cards for me

So to you dear Ginsberg

Alan

Can I call you Al?

And you can call me D

[Anything just not Dee Dee which drops my IQ 25 points}

Ginsberg,

Al,

I think about you a lot

Mostly thought when I’m looking at my two conflicting work schedules and thinking,

I hate this crap

I hate this crap so fucking much I can barely stand to even look at it

I ask myself what kind of writer

Fuck

what kind of person

Kills them self over a bitchy 19 year old boss

A hyperactive blue haired Korean mouse

in tiny cut off shorts

Who calls me “a nice girl”  and tells

Everyone

that this is my “first real job”

And then smiles at me like we’ve been best friends since,

fovever

I’d like to think you’d punch her

or at least tell her to shut the fuck up

And that this job

Selling eighty dollar jeans with holes in the knees

and Pantera shirts next to Justin Beiber watches—

is a fucking joke

Not a real job

I see you and I squatting out by the parking lot

Smoking cloves and talking shit

I see you playing jazz on the loud speakers

Cranking Charlie Parker’s

Scrapple From the Apple

Loud enough for the whole soul-sucking mall to feel in their throats

Forty percent discount, nine dollars an hour, and a gold fucking star

Starving for my art would be too dignified

Would you sell out to pay your cell phone bill Ginsberg?

Or to eat?

What about to a corporation that enslaves overseas workers to make these

studded

distressed

jeans for

pathetic

spoiled depressed teens

with their hair all in their faces

Would you get as angry as I get

Folding them?

Knowing I have to sell this shit with a smile and “believe in the product”

I see you having a crazy fit

Throwing money from register 1

                                                     2

                                                        and 3

Ripping Twilight Posters from the glass and breaking the Justin Beiber display in an insane fit of sanity

I see you giving them

All of them

At Hottopic

My bitchy boss included

a double salute with matching middle fingers

For you, Ginsberg

Are braver than I

I, who watches my muse slowly die

as I sit and silently pray to be fired

[And until then use my forty percent discount on frivolous cartoon panties]

Dear Ginsberg,

Alan

Al

I want to tell you that I write at midnight for you

That I too feel the rage that you did and probably still do

Toward the atrocities of a overfed society of selfish lonely children

But even as I fight Babylon, I am part of it

Willing and unwilling,

I am a tiny cog

sansmith:

lovely-lailah:

Bat Cappuccino Set by Sami Rinne

Cuuuuute!

OMG YES!!!!! I WANT I WANT!