i am overcome.
i feel the presence of so many emotions, tugging at one another vying for supremacy, deciding who will get to ride this wave with me. i don't know what to think or to feel, i don't know who or what i am, i don't know what it's all about. i looked at the sky earlier, and the clouds moved away and i could see straight up, i didn't know it but i was seeing it all, further out than i could ever venture, and i'm just so small. i can allow all the forces at work keeping all this together to tug me around with them and show me the way, but it's so scary not to know what's next. we know nothing at all like we think we do, and at the highest level everything you ever knew, loved, or thought you did is just an instant, a tiny unmeasurable factor in whatever happens from moment to moment. it's worrying that you'll collapse inward before everything else does, that you won't allow yourself to reach the moment you feel is impending- and why not? it's fear, and it's built in so there's no connection between you and everything that made you. i am part of the nothing that makes up everything.
4.30.2010
let's not be friends
in general, i think i cope with people pretty well. i say cope because as a rule i generally detest "people"; large groups of them, certain individuals, and just the whole idea of other people. which is why i have little to no patience for those who test the limits of being an Unlikable Person further, by doing stupid things like holding grudges and going back on their word. if i wronged a person, truly wronged them, i could accept them being upset with me, not wanting to talk to me, or thinking i'm a douchebag. but i am NOT a douchebag just because i don't shape my intentions around what someone else wants. there are very few people important enough to make me consider them in any decision making process that AFFECTS ME. these people i am talking about, they are selfish, and they are hypocrites. they are the sort of people that get angry with you for doing the very same thing in a situation that they would do were they in your place, and then stick their noses up in the air at you for living your life without them in mind. they're the people that stop answering friendly messages after begging you to stay their friend, they're the people who get new girlfriends or go a while without talking to you and assume that this means they must now hate you with ever fiber of their being. what the hell is wrong with this picture? let's take a step back. who is more selfish? the person who does what they think is right, even if other people don't like it, even if they themselves don't like the outcome, and tries to make the best of it, or the person that would rather make someone else live a lie and put up with nonsense to pacify someone? i'm not taking any more of this in my life. i live life for me, because at the end of my life the only person who needs to be satisfied is me. so from now on, any of those negative assholes who wish to ruin my peace with selfishness and pigheadedness can take their shit elsewhere.
4.29.2010
last night's dream.
last night i had a dream about love and a serial killer. i need to get it down before i forget.there was a book i was reading, each chapter was about a woman, and at the end of it she would die. i don't really remember the first three, only that they existed, and with each new chapter i was immediately so captivated that reading it was literally just watching a movie i'd never seen unfold behind my eyes. i remember colors more vivid than life. the last chapter, the longest and most eventful, was a girl who was me but not. i followed her from youth the early adulthood. she was young and smart but afraid, and she fell in love with a boy, maybe i know him, but i don't remember his face. they wanted to marry, and the man in charge, he owned a furniture store, and for some reason, he hated her. he wouldn't let them. over and over they went to the store, and he kept saying no and ruining things for them. the girl and boy started doing drugs, and the girl was turning into a different person. then she was an older woman, sitting on a bench. the place she was was so beautiful, it glowed with sunlight and it was fall, there were leaves everywhere, different oranges, and the whole place looked like it was on fire. people would pass occasionally, but she just sat there, writing and thinking, and eventually she was someone else, an older woman, maybe someone i saw on tv once. a man drove up and started talking to her about the place, the schools, the kids, and he seemed strange. i saw his face, but i don't remember that either. he was the younger version of the man in the furniture store, and when i looked at him i immediately recognized him as a killer. then i was back to reading pages in a book, not seeing the story for myself, and i knew the girl was dead when i woke up.
4.25.2010
Gogol Bordello: the Night that Changed My Life.
so somehow i still haven't blogged this experience, despite it having happened a couple days ago. shame on me.
I must give an edited version of my experience- my spiritual journey, if you will- for various reasons, those being to protect some privileged information and to *try* and keep me from rambling about it, literally forever.
On April 23rd, around 7am, I wake with a start as i hear the faint buzzing of my cell phone on the desk. "SHIT. TRAIN!" i think to myself as i get up; dressing within what feels like seconds, i run out of my room, out of my building, heading for amtrak with a prayer to the concert gods in my speedily beating heart.
fast forward to six hours later: i made my train, but i couldn't sleep on the way there, so i get off groggily at union station in chicago, and await my ride, shamrock shake in hand, in the seat i claim as my very own at the mcdonald's there. by this point i am excited and maintaining a general sense of well being, thanks to simply being in chicago, and being on my way to a concert; yet i have no idea what is in store. ride arrives. we drive around. we eat at Let's Go Diner Restaurant in *the* hippest part of town (go there if you can- the grub is worth the feelings of displacement upon realising you're the only one in the place without a v-neck on.) i need a skirt for the show, as am i told i will regret wearing jeans (this turns out to be true, true, true.) we shop, we drive, we park, and then we are at Congress.
**this is where the magic starts, so if you were skimming(and i promise i wouldn't blame you), you should start paying attention.**
standing in line (3rd rather than first to our dismay) we (me, and my companions, roommate and a friend) we meet some cool people, we encounter some annoying people, it rains a little and we are cold,but all in all the vibe is good. for the others, it's no big deal, but my first big shock comes when i look to my left and just around the corner at which we are standing, some people are exiting a tour bus. it doesn't occur to me that gogol bordello will have parked right next to the stage doors, so you can imagine my surprise when Eugene and Pedro(aka the love of my life in my starstruckier, lamer moments) waltz past.swiftly denying an encounter with a way too excited fangirl, i am able to gauge the level of coolness i will need to maintain with surprising ease. this becomes a little more difficult when, a while later, Yuri and Sergei stop to talk to us- actually one of my companions, but i think all in all i maintained an acceptable level of calm. we hang out a while later, then friendly Security Guard Mike tells us it's time, we can go in now.
Rushing to the doors of congress, i raise my hands to be patted down, and then i run on my numb little feet to the very front of the stage. we score spots front and center, and hold them as the place fills.i wait somewhat impatiently, and finally there are soundchecks and tech people leave the crowded stage and lights come down and everyone is making way for some relaxed- looking guys on stage left. They're the openers, and frankly they aren't that good, but being in the front row they successfully do their job of getting the crowd- or at least me- warmed up.then the fun starts. i wait even more impatiently, because i know what's next. the stage is cleared once again, and then a very different crowd overtakes it. Devotchka arrives and immediately begin filling my soul with wonder. their set, while not the main event i am so stoked for this entire time, is like some fascinating break from reality. am i really this close? i listen to these guys all the time, and now i'm seeing them, they're real people. it's not like i've never been to a concert before; i have, and i've seen some acts that are equally, if not more, important to my musical preferences. but this felt like magic. i looked at their eyes, i heard the fervor for what was going on and i felt it. by the end of the set, i had been hypnotized by sound, mesmerized by the stylings of a rope dancer in yet another moment of complete perfection, and completely ready for the culmination of the night. devotchka's set ends, they leave the stage, i am crushed against the gate and the crowd behind me is pulsing with excitement.
stage setup, lights, and then out they come. they come one by one, they begin to play their respective instruments, the crowd goes crazy for each and every one. last is eugene, and as he begins to sing, the glue that holds the chaos together cures and some perfect masterpeice is being created in front of my eyes. the show goes on, song after song i revel and scream and jump and throw my arms into the air and am crushed and pushed and don't care. every movement they make is theatrical, every new moment feels like hearing some beautiful new language for the first time. even the parts i don't understand, i feel an urgency to experience fully and completely and to never ever forget it. the music is gypsy punk, and the spirit of that is present in a tangible way. it feels foreign and new, yet so present, like it reacts with something inside a person. it feels personal but immeasurable, and it feels like the greatest connection i ever had to something that isn't even tangible; some sounds, a feeling, the emotion of experiencing something so new and exciting. the moments they create and the combination of feelings they stir with every leap across the stage and every strum of a guitar or a bass or note on an accordion or a violin or beat on a drum or a block of wood, feels like magic at work on my soul.
after the show ends- and then ends again, following a fantastic encore- we head outside. it's raining, it's even colder, but we're riding a euphoric high and we barely notice. arriving at the car, my roomate's friend gets a text. it's a member of the band, he wants to know what we're doing. excited all over again, we run to find him, and he ends up hanging out in the car with us. we talk about canada, he tells us about their busy schedule for the last few days. it's surreal that i am experiencing on a personal, person- to- real live person basis, the very thing i have just finished falling in love with. after a while we head out, it's still raining. "we go to the bus," his russian accent tells us. a new wave of thrill. we enter the bus. there's sergei, two girls and a guy. they're talking, so we sit and we say hello and we listen. yuri tells a story sergie warns us is "terrible" (it is) but we listen nonetheless. we get into a conversation with the girls on the bus. they're from venezuela and italy, they're sisters. the older one tells us we should travel, that it makes you smarter, that you have to see the world, and i promise her i will. the younger one is drunk, vaguely obnoxious and superior and keeps complaning about americans, but i can't hold anything against her because the moment i'm in is not something to complain about. eventually they leave, more people come, and as it gets closer to curfew, the band begins to file in- the bus has to leave at 1:30. so we sit, and we talk. a roadie talks to us for a while, then tommy through a mouthful of mexican food of which he does not know the origin. pedro comes in, and i ask how he likes chicago, he says it's a cool city. i fight with surprising strength the urge to touch his solitary dread, knotted into a bun on the back of his head- it is the most lovely and enticing thing i've ever seen; i immediately want to hug him. people get on the bus, some sit in the front, but other sneak past and head to the back, tired or just not in the mood to hang in a crowded room with fans, either of which works for me because just seeing them is enough. eugene comes in, and in the one moment i promised myself i wouldn't make a fool of myself, i awkwardly giggle and shake his hand as i answer his question by telling him that yes, the show was amazing, and then he is gone. more time passes, i continue questioning whether what is happening is even real, and then it is 1:30 and we have to leave. outside the bus we say our goodbyes to yuri, who has been our ambassador into this guided tour of joy incarnate. we go to the car. "that does not happen to ANYBODY," says Hannah, and i realize how bizzare it is that meeting some people on a bus is a highlight in my life, but only long enough to notice and not care at all because i am so damn happy.
after that, we go find food, we sleep a couple of hours in the car because we have trains and buses and drives to make. i sit in union station at the amtrak terminal, and half- sleep but feeling half- dead, i feel like i am in purgatory. i awake to one of the 4 alarms i set (not wanting a more disastrous repeat of the beginning of this story) and look around, thinking, it was too good, and now my life is over. where am i? what do i do now? these thoughts carry through, as i board my train, as i jerkily wake time and time again from the train jostling my tired and achy body, as i get off the train into a thunderstorm and i walk into my dorm room, removing my sodden clothes and going straight to the shower. i go about my day tiredly, waiting for the time when i can regulate sleep and begin to feel normal again. but i woke up this morning, and tess is still gone, having adventures with the band which, for me, were cut short by responsibilities i didn't know i would be so ready to abandon, had i still been able, by the end of my experience. and i'm sitting in my room all day, nursing various bruises from my night, stinging little souvenirs that yesterday were swollen and already are beginning to fade. i feel in a spiritual limbo, because even though maybe it was just a concert and maybe just a cool band i got to hang out with for a while, the feelings i felt during that time changed something in me, and i feel different, and i have a band called gogol bordello to thank for it, and i won't forget.
I must give an edited version of my experience- my spiritual journey, if you will- for various reasons, those being to protect some privileged information and to *try* and keep me from rambling about it, literally forever.
On April 23rd, around 7am, I wake with a start as i hear the faint buzzing of my cell phone on the desk. "SHIT. TRAIN!" i think to myself as i get up; dressing within what feels like seconds, i run out of my room, out of my building, heading for amtrak with a prayer to the concert gods in my speedily beating heart.
fast forward to six hours later: i made my train, but i couldn't sleep on the way there, so i get off groggily at union station in chicago, and await my ride, shamrock shake in hand, in the seat i claim as my very own at the mcdonald's there. by this point i am excited and maintaining a general sense of well being, thanks to simply being in chicago, and being on my way to a concert; yet i have no idea what is in store. ride arrives. we drive around. we eat at Let's Go Diner Restaurant in *the* hippest part of town (go there if you can- the grub is worth the feelings of displacement upon realising you're the only one in the place without a v-neck on.) i need a skirt for the show, as am i told i will regret wearing jeans (this turns out to be true, true, true.) we shop, we drive, we park, and then we are at Congress.
**this is where the magic starts, so if you were skimming(and i promise i wouldn't blame you), you should start paying attention.**
standing in line (3rd rather than first to our dismay) we (me, and my companions, roommate and a friend) we meet some cool people, we encounter some annoying people, it rains a little and we are cold,but all in all the vibe is good. for the others, it's no big deal, but my first big shock comes when i look to my left and just around the corner at which we are standing, some people are exiting a tour bus. it doesn't occur to me that gogol bordello will have parked right next to the stage doors, so you can imagine my surprise when Eugene and Pedro(aka the love of my life in my starstruckier, lamer moments) waltz past.swiftly denying an encounter with a way too excited fangirl, i am able to gauge the level of coolness i will need to maintain with surprising ease. this becomes a little more difficult when, a while later, Yuri and Sergei stop to talk to us- actually one of my companions, but i think all in all i maintained an acceptable level of calm. we hang out a while later, then friendly Security Guard Mike tells us it's time, we can go in now.
Rushing to the doors of congress, i raise my hands to be patted down, and then i run on my numb little feet to the very front of the stage. we score spots front and center, and hold them as the place fills.i wait somewhat impatiently, and finally there are soundchecks and tech people leave the crowded stage and lights come down and everyone is making way for some relaxed- looking guys on stage left. They're the openers, and frankly they aren't that good, but being in the front row they successfully do their job of getting the crowd- or at least me- warmed up.then the fun starts. i wait even more impatiently, because i know what's next. the stage is cleared once again, and then a very different crowd overtakes it. Devotchka arrives and immediately begin filling my soul with wonder. their set, while not the main event i am so stoked for this entire time, is like some fascinating break from reality. am i really this close? i listen to these guys all the time, and now i'm seeing them, they're real people. it's not like i've never been to a concert before; i have, and i've seen some acts that are equally, if not more, important to my musical preferences. but this felt like magic. i looked at their eyes, i heard the fervor for what was going on and i felt it. by the end of the set, i had been hypnotized by sound, mesmerized by the stylings of a rope dancer in yet another moment of complete perfection, and completely ready for the culmination of the night. devotchka's set ends, they leave the stage, i am crushed against the gate and the crowd behind me is pulsing with excitement.
stage setup, lights, and then out they come. they come one by one, they begin to play their respective instruments, the crowd goes crazy for each and every one. last is eugene, and as he begins to sing, the glue that holds the chaos together cures and some perfect masterpeice is being created in front of my eyes. the show goes on, song after song i revel and scream and jump and throw my arms into the air and am crushed and pushed and don't care. every movement they make is theatrical, every new moment feels like hearing some beautiful new language for the first time. even the parts i don't understand, i feel an urgency to experience fully and completely and to never ever forget it. the music is gypsy punk, and the spirit of that is present in a tangible way. it feels foreign and new, yet so present, like it reacts with something inside a person. it feels personal but immeasurable, and it feels like the greatest connection i ever had to something that isn't even tangible; some sounds, a feeling, the emotion of experiencing something so new and exciting. the moments they create and the combination of feelings they stir with every leap across the stage and every strum of a guitar or a bass or note on an accordion or a violin or beat on a drum or a block of wood, feels like magic at work on my soul.
after the show ends- and then ends again, following a fantastic encore- we head outside. it's raining, it's even colder, but we're riding a euphoric high and we barely notice. arriving at the car, my roomate's friend gets a text. it's a member of the band, he wants to know what we're doing. excited all over again, we run to find him, and he ends up hanging out in the car with us. we talk about canada, he tells us about their busy schedule for the last few days. it's surreal that i am experiencing on a personal, person- to- real live person basis, the very thing i have just finished falling in love with. after a while we head out, it's still raining. "we go to the bus," his russian accent tells us. a new wave of thrill. we enter the bus. there's sergei, two girls and a guy. they're talking, so we sit and we say hello and we listen. yuri tells a story sergie warns us is "terrible" (it is) but we listen nonetheless. we get into a conversation with the girls on the bus. they're from venezuela and italy, they're sisters. the older one tells us we should travel, that it makes you smarter, that you have to see the world, and i promise her i will. the younger one is drunk, vaguely obnoxious and superior and keeps complaning about americans, but i can't hold anything against her because the moment i'm in is not something to complain about. eventually they leave, more people come, and as it gets closer to curfew, the band begins to file in- the bus has to leave at 1:30. so we sit, and we talk. a roadie talks to us for a while, then tommy through a mouthful of mexican food of which he does not know the origin. pedro comes in, and i ask how he likes chicago, he says it's a cool city. i fight with surprising strength the urge to touch his solitary dread, knotted into a bun on the back of his head- it is the most lovely and enticing thing i've ever seen; i immediately want to hug him. people get on the bus, some sit in the front, but other sneak past and head to the back, tired or just not in the mood to hang in a crowded room with fans, either of which works for me because just seeing them is enough. eugene comes in, and in the one moment i promised myself i wouldn't make a fool of myself, i awkwardly giggle and shake his hand as i answer his question by telling him that yes, the show was amazing, and then he is gone. more time passes, i continue questioning whether what is happening is even real, and then it is 1:30 and we have to leave. outside the bus we say our goodbyes to yuri, who has been our ambassador into this guided tour of joy incarnate. we go to the car. "that does not happen to ANYBODY," says Hannah, and i realize how bizzare it is that meeting some people on a bus is a highlight in my life, but only long enough to notice and not care at all because i am so damn happy.
after that, we go find food, we sleep a couple of hours in the car because we have trains and buses and drives to make. i sit in union station at the amtrak terminal, and half- sleep but feeling half- dead, i feel like i am in purgatory. i awake to one of the 4 alarms i set (not wanting a more disastrous repeat of the beginning of this story) and look around, thinking, it was too good, and now my life is over. where am i? what do i do now? these thoughts carry through, as i board my train, as i jerkily wake time and time again from the train jostling my tired and achy body, as i get off the train into a thunderstorm and i walk into my dorm room, removing my sodden clothes and going straight to the shower. i go about my day tiredly, waiting for the time when i can regulate sleep and begin to feel normal again. but i woke up this morning, and tess is still gone, having adventures with the band which, for me, were cut short by responsibilities i didn't know i would be so ready to abandon, had i still been able, by the end of my experience. and i'm sitting in my room all day, nursing various bruises from my night, stinging little souvenirs that yesterday were swollen and already are beginning to fade. i feel in a spiritual limbo, because even though maybe it was just a concert and maybe just a cool band i got to hang out with for a while, the feelings i felt during that time changed something in me, and i feel different, and i have a band called gogol bordello to thank for it, and i won't forget.
4.14.2010
i have some things to say
- i wish you hadn't forgotten all about me so it would be more satisfying to forget you.nonetheless i'll enjoy it. it hurts me deeply that we can't even be mature, can't even maintain the relationship that YOU begged ME not to abandon, because you suddenly feel i'm some terrible person. i won't deny my wrongdoing; it was inexcusable. but the immaturity and pettiness it takes to go back on such strong words and abandon such a strong foundation astounds me coming from you. i honestly thought we'd always stay close, that you'd know how important you were to me and that the things we exchanged would be enough. sorry that i expected way too much from someone who was supposed to be my friend.
- the way i feel about most people, it's a huge surprise that missing you feels so wonderful. i worried that we would drift apart, but i feel a comfort between us that isn't effected (except maybe to be strengthened) by being separated. i think we are growing closer in new ways, and i'm really glad. i can't wait to spend time with you again.
- even though we don't talk as much or see eachother as we have in the past, you are so much a part of me. i think of you daily, i miss you just as often, and when i talk to you it only renews my sense that we're too connected for distance to matter. i love you like i love my family, and i'm so so glad that regardless of what changes our relationship goes through, that connection only gets stronger.
- you were never good for me, and i know that now, but it's a shame i figure it out just in time for you to realize i have nothing to offer you now. i'm sorry our timing was off, i think we could have been good friends, but i hope for your happiness whenever i think of you.
- i miss being your best friend, but i don't think the connection is salvageable. i still care about you and hope we always stay in touch, but i think we missed our moment.
- i miss you very much, and i thank you more than words can express for all the help and support you've given me. we haven't always seen eye to eye as i've grown up, but i appreciate the respect you've given me and my decisions and your ability to care about me and my happiness no matter what is going on around me. i love you and i'm glad i'm finally able to appreciate how important that is.
- i can't wait to see you and scratch your ears and let you lick my face and cuddle with you by the fire. you're counted among my best friends, even though you can't talk. i miss you and love you!
+++
the identities of these aren't a secret, and if any of the people represented were to read it and want to know, you can ask. though, it should be pretty obvious if you're on here. the last, especially, though she will never know. =P
have a lovely day.
jesaka
- the way i feel about most people, it's a huge surprise that missing you feels so wonderful. i worried that we would drift apart, but i feel a comfort between us that isn't effected (except maybe to be strengthened) by being separated. i think we are growing closer in new ways, and i'm really glad. i can't wait to spend time with you again.
- even though we don't talk as much or see eachother as we have in the past, you are so much a part of me. i think of you daily, i miss you just as often, and when i talk to you it only renews my sense that we're too connected for distance to matter. i love you like i love my family, and i'm so so glad that regardless of what changes our relationship goes through, that connection only gets stronger.
- you were never good for me, and i know that now, but it's a shame i figure it out just in time for you to realize i have nothing to offer you now. i'm sorry our timing was off, i think we could have been good friends, but i hope for your happiness whenever i think of you.
- i miss being your best friend, but i don't think the connection is salvageable. i still care about you and hope we always stay in touch, but i think we missed our moment.
- i miss you very much, and i thank you more than words can express for all the help and support you've given me. we haven't always seen eye to eye as i've grown up, but i appreciate the respect you've given me and my decisions and your ability to care about me and my happiness no matter what is going on around me. i love you and i'm glad i'm finally able to appreciate how important that is.
- i can't wait to see you and scratch your ears and let you lick my face and cuddle with you by the fire. you're counted among my best friends, even though you can't talk. i miss you and love you!
+++
the identities of these aren't a secret, and if any of the people represented were to read it and want to know, you can ask. though, it should be pretty obvious if you're on here. the last, especially, though she will never know. =P
have a lovely day.
jesaka
4.12.2010
bitch bitch bitch
or, why my life is awesome
-i suck at homework, and going to class, and basically anything that would make my hellish stay here in collegeland less hellish and more worthwhile. i feel like a failure.
-i really really enjoy having no boyfriend and being separated from my best friends, literally the only people to whom i make any sense at all, and barely being able to communicate with the friends i have, and basically having no one around to talk to or open up to at all, and ending up spending all my time talking to my family because they're the closest people who will listen to my problems without getting all judgey or better, not understanding/caring at all. i am incomparably lonely.
- the reason i'm here in the first place is art, and i feel like i'm getting nowhere. everyone else is more creative, more interesting, and just better than i am. most days i wake up thinking, "there's no point in trying."
-the closest to happy i get is when i am completely alone. when i'm suddenly around people, people i'm supposed to like, i clam up, i stress out, and i have to get the hell out of there immediately. i'd like to not be this way, but there's not much i can do about the overwhelming sense of irritation i have when i'm forced into social situations, even super casual ones. i'm bound to become a freakish shut-in.
-I MISS MY DOGS. contraband hermit crabs cannot take the place of years of cuddling and listening to me whine (yes i talk to my dog, deal with it) and basically being like a secondary (/tertiary) best friend.
- i am sick and tired of being broke. if my family didn't take pity on me, i would literally have negative money. i owe this school money for things i didn't know i was going to have to pay for, i'm exhausted from always worrying about it, and no one whose job it is to help has done anything to assist me. if i were really getting something out of this experience, i might feel differently about the situation. but as it stands, i feel like i am paying someone to make me tired and sad, but for some silly reason not being able to pay them just makes me sadder and more tired. college is a ripoff, at least in my case. i could have taken all that loan money and f**king moved to france.
for these reasons and so many other stupid tiny ones (yes stupider and more tiny than those listed) i officially hate college. i hope to find a way out of returning. but i won't. because that is my life. one big ball of fuck you straight from the universe to me.
-i suck at homework, and going to class, and basically anything that would make my hellish stay here in collegeland less hellish and more worthwhile. i feel like a failure.
-i really really enjoy having no boyfriend and being separated from my best friends, literally the only people to whom i make any sense at all, and barely being able to communicate with the friends i have, and basically having no one around to talk to or open up to at all, and ending up spending all my time talking to my family because they're the closest people who will listen to my problems without getting all judgey or better, not understanding/caring at all. i am incomparably lonely.
- the reason i'm here in the first place is art, and i feel like i'm getting nowhere. everyone else is more creative, more interesting, and just better than i am. most days i wake up thinking, "there's no point in trying."
-the closest to happy i get is when i am completely alone. when i'm suddenly around people, people i'm supposed to like, i clam up, i stress out, and i have to get the hell out of there immediately. i'd like to not be this way, but there's not much i can do about the overwhelming sense of irritation i have when i'm forced into social situations, even super casual ones. i'm bound to become a freakish shut-in.
-I MISS MY DOGS. contraband hermit crabs cannot take the place of years of cuddling and listening to me whine (yes i talk to my dog, deal with it) and basically being like a secondary (/tertiary) best friend.
- i am sick and tired of being broke. if my family didn't take pity on me, i would literally have negative money. i owe this school money for things i didn't know i was going to have to pay for, i'm exhausted from always worrying about it, and no one whose job it is to help has done anything to assist me. if i were really getting something out of this experience, i might feel differently about the situation. but as it stands, i feel like i am paying someone to make me tired and sad, but for some silly reason not being able to pay them just makes me sadder and more tired. college is a ripoff, at least in my case. i could have taken all that loan money and f**king moved to france.
for these reasons and so many other stupid tiny ones (yes stupider and more tiny than those listed) i officially hate college. i hope to find a way out of returning. but i won't. because that is my life. one big ball of fuck you straight from the universe to me.
4.11.2010
there is a hole in the bottom of my foot
and i think my soul is leaking out of it.
the earth has found a way to steal all my good vibes; surely this is why:
i am failing a class
i hate the others, though i managed to pass them
i want to drop out of college and move to france
i don't believe any of my friends are truly my friends
i have no interest in social interactions
last night i sat at a party and read a book.
for example.
this blog post is sure to contain any number of complaints.
however, life isn't all bad. the sun shines, and i wake up every day, and it's good. art and love and enjoying grass between your toes, those are all free, and i have them. still, the need for solitude stirs within me a lot more often than normal these days. there are people i like, sure, but it seems like i only like them, am only interested in anything really, in theory. just for the moment it takes me to decide how i feel about something, i actually feel it. then i return to blankness, uncaring, barely attentive, not even there. i never know what people say when they speak to me. i find no value in small, cursory social interactions. i'd do just as well to sit home and read. but to some this is a large distinction: either you are the type to stay home and not search out company, or the type to flourish in a "social" situation full of meaningless interactions. I say, make it count. a real connection with a person, being interested in what they have to say, even if only on a certain topic, is so much more worthwhile. i think we're bound to disagree, the world and i. in the meantime i will fight my way through the sameness by hiding in alcoves whatever chance i get, really trying to care what people have to say, and being interested in things outside my head. it's all about balance.
read books,
jesaka
the earth has found a way to steal all my good vibes; surely this is why:
i am failing a class
i hate the others, though i managed to pass them
i want to drop out of college and move to france
i don't believe any of my friends are truly my friends
i have no interest in social interactions
last night i sat at a party and read a book.
for example.
this blog post is sure to contain any number of complaints.
however, life isn't all bad. the sun shines, and i wake up every day, and it's good. art and love and enjoying grass between your toes, those are all free, and i have them. still, the need for solitude stirs within me a lot more often than normal these days. there are people i like, sure, but it seems like i only like them, am only interested in anything really, in theory. just for the moment it takes me to decide how i feel about something, i actually feel it. then i return to blankness, uncaring, barely attentive, not even there. i never know what people say when they speak to me. i find no value in small, cursory social interactions. i'd do just as well to sit home and read. but to some this is a large distinction: either you are the type to stay home and not search out company, or the type to flourish in a "social" situation full of meaningless interactions. I say, make it count. a real connection with a person, being interested in what they have to say, even if only on a certain topic, is so much more worthwhile. i think we're bound to disagree, the world and i. in the meantime i will fight my way through the sameness by hiding in alcoves whatever chance i get, really trying to care what people have to say, and being interested in things outside my head. it's all about balance.
read books,
jesaka
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