100 exp. to anyone who understands the wonderful hidden play on words in the post title. A fucking idiot asked me what i hoped to accomplish by the end of summer. the obvious answer, in lieu of the standard response of nothing, was to finishing reading the brothers karamazov (if only to quell my deep desire to heed nicholson's advice). having actually been thinking about how to waste my time, here's the updated list of what i'll be trying to do:
Finish reading A Song of Ice and Fire, up to the latest book. reading the actually novels is so much better than the show; i can make characters uglier or more attractive as opposed to their live action counter parts...and i actually remember the characters instead of wondering who the fuck the man in the tattered smock is.
Catullus. Getting you into my life; your words move me.
Anaïs Nin* why can't my life be as yours was?
French and Italians* because i miss it.
The return of bad habits on the balcony. It worked the first time and 2 liters of vodka will make it easier.
i can't think of anything else at the moment, only sensible activities like volunteering or interning or working at a godawful place. who wants to do shit like that? ... well, i do, to a lesser extent.
*here's a haul of free books i've taken into custody after raiding a vacant apartment. i'll keep them, adore them as they once were adored, and return them should the original owner(s) ask me nicely.
on a completely unrelated note, i am fucking obsessed with iain glen as jack taylor. it's the kind of show that you think might be absolute shite when you see jorah mormont skulking around galway in an oversized coat, but once you start watching it hooks you like some wonderful drug.
there isn't too much serious discussion that ever goes on here. i think the one major post was about the time I talked about leaving school. ...it was a shit of a way to let people know about my departure, my fleeing, my calling it fucking quits, my dissatisfaction with everything happening to me; it was the only way i could break it to the masses (i couldn't bring myself to tell people straight up...rumors started that i had been eaten by the fat, monster-of-a-girl who lived on my dorm floor).
ok, back to the times that matter: so here we are, five years later, and my life is a touch more exciting and not as horrible. there have been good things. very good things that have made me smile nonstop, the real ones that you don't flash when you feel obligated to look like a sane citizen, and take pleasure in the notion that i'm alive right now. i didn't think it could happen to me, i don't even understand why i let something like two years ago fuck me over for such a thing, but there i was, struck with unnecessary emotions over....wait for it..a boy. is it so stupid that i thought one sweet-and-soft-talking, lying, awkward-handshaking artist from a few years ago was able damage me forever? i was quite sure he did so i avoided any such relations with people who i thought might look attractive and have penises. it was back to being quiet and guarded and lonely (this is ok, i'm a lonely person after all); existence was difficult in a solitary mental state. i came to miss the physical contact, the laughing at stupid things, the overall company of a boy (maybe even a homely one as long as we liked the same things..more on this later). the quest was arduous and unfruitful. how could anyone ever compare to a motherfucking artist who wore glasses and indulged in devious deeds that i could no longer live without...HOW? eventually, my luck turned. patience is a virtue i never do without and i was well rewarded for a time. it's not often i will receive courting or revelations of admiration with delight. the majority of these advances are met with a coy smile declining such intentions. i mean, it's rare that this will happen to me. i can't even begin to imagine why anyone would find me remotely attractive: i'm generally short, rectangularly shaped, annoyingly silent, indecisive, unintentionally judgmental,wide-faced...the list goes on, but i don't want to demoralize myself any further...So it's always an uplifting sensation to have a reciprocation of liking from someone who doesn't turn out to be stalker or creepy 40-year-old geek who lives with his mom.
this brings me to the much eluded topic of...urgh...wuv. i can't stand thinking, talking, wondering...having anything to do with it. Love is such a powerful, definite word; the connotations apparent in it are so deep, it can't be flung around recklessly to express a vague liking of something--this is a feeling poets have been trying to encompass for ages, what artists have only dreamed of depicting, something young girls hope to fall into by the time they reach puberty.
in the course of relationships i've survived, the greatest adversary i've come to face is trust. At first it's easy to believe someone likes you, but as time progresses you pick out little characteristics that induce suspicion; by the end of dates or sex or walks in the park or sex or awkward car rides one can't help but wonder if he really cares...if he's already plotting a way to ensnare his next victim (consensually or not), if he thinks about you whilst on the loo because you certainly do. i mean, really, how can you tell if likes, let alone Loves, you?
of course there's the betty everett method to determine such a discrepancy. to be honest, it's never quite worked for me...and i'm still very much waiting for that one magical kiss where i wrap my arms around his neck, lift up left foot (and only the left), and there's a spectacle of fireworks going off around us (or it at least feels like it to me) and a i can see the whole thing enfolding as if a camera is encircling us to catch every angle of bliss.this has never happened. i think this fantasy has to come to an end.
back to the point, if there is a point, if you've kept up with what i've put on here thus far and paid attention: my trust issues. Of course I've been lied to, damaged by selfish boys who want it all, and the tolerance for anyone who fucks me over wanes...at times i become consumed by paranoia. this is made all the worse as every boy/man/life-changing, magical entity has abandoned me, leaving without a trace or explanation, resulting in brooding, sobbing, and an overall mood of desolation on my part. there have been instances where i recall a fond or ridiculous memory and my eyes will well up (so much for being an emotionless mass of woman). all that flashes in my mind by then are thoughts of my insignificance and why i exist in world that would do fine, if not better, without me. now i can't even remember what i was supposed to discuss, where i was going beyond a post regarding a special little guy who is leaving me for a better life...all i can say, since he's long gone and no longer thinking about a stupid, melodramatic girl, is i miss you. yes, i'm guilty of caring too much and possibly wishing of fulfilling my mad notion of becoming a single mother (it is a desire i often dream of....don't judge).
remnants good for a lazy saturday
so. this is mostly a dedication, an explanation (pending it is read in all its entirety by my special little guy), a retching of words to let you and whoever winds up here know that you're nothing short of amazing, that you fucking saved me, that i'm suffering without you...that maybe i lost the best gotdang person i've met in a while and it will take me eons to find the next one. despite these revelations and admirations about this person, there is lingering doubt in my mind that he will be good; i only suspect your engagement in purely sexual escapades or narcotic affairs. i am driven to madness. as much as i'd like to ignore these thoughts, they always creep in when least expected. just because fucking feels good and i'm not there doesn't diminish the fact that i know you're being a jerk. please don't go around fucking trash. i worry and i endure the sensations of stupidity exerting too much concern over your activities. at least know i do.
in truth, i have never thought of you as a moral person; the decisions you make, the actions you do are based on your own intentions: let them die. there are things i've wanted to say in your presence, but why take me seriously...i hope you care, i assume you do since the last time i saw you.. on the issue of my loyalty i only have to say this on my behalf: (1) i don't lie to people i don't know very well (2) why would i do something stupid?
ANYWAY! this has been dragging on forever and it's out in the public free to be ridiculed and snuffed at by everybody. so that's it. i'm going to write miserable novels in the corner whilst sobbing...and don't fucking tell me to man up or have some balls because it's not physically possible for me to be or do those things.
here i am in my new wonderful apartment and going to school everyday thus far, even though classes haven't started yet, to familiarize myself with these foreign surroundings. i still get lost on campus, but at least i'm fairly certain i know where my classes for this quarter will be. regretting i didn't dorm on campus a bit since i gotta walk through these hilly streets and i have no idea when some activities or whatever are going on (can you fucking believe i missed bruin bash??!! i feel like such a loooosser..). i just wasn't keen on the fact that the housing stuff made meals a mandatory add on and 12 people sharing 1 bathroom...um, maybe not. My general feelings regarding UCLA are...ehm, bland. I know there are some people who are crazy-excited to be bruin and break out in the eight clap every few minutes, but--i could give less of a fuck. just looking forward to graduating and worrying about real like again (oh my god. do you have a deadline to be married and/or pregnant? no? oh, sorry, i guess you don't have concerned older friends like me). I mean--I think it's because all the transfers are put together with the freshmen for new kid stuff and seeing all these students in all their blue and gold apparel emblazoned with those four letters--I've been through this before, granted it wasn't even close to this good, so it's nothing new. In some respects i kinda wish i went to san diego. curses i wasn't able to visit the campus there before having to decide! the scene here..makes me long for...pcc. sadly. of course that could change over time--i'm willing to see how this will go.
what's really getting to me are those asian guys with glasses. what. the fucking. hell. also the dripping of rain or whatever liquid onto the exterior of my ac unit that i can do absolutely nothing about (FOR NOW). leaving it at that.
it was quite pleasant today (except for lunch, i'm really not liking lunch on weekdays). i think a lot of it was attributed to being with crystal during my time at school rather than "david" and his afrocized, froggish teach pal. i actually did some form of work, on my lesson plans for the next week or so. i think it's pretty official: i like the kids at my main school the best. they are mostly
a)cute b)nice (to me and at least from what i've experienced..) c)eager to learn english
some, what do call em...read-thru/grammar/spell checks were requested and definitely a bitch to try and fix. it was a lot like high school. i heard a sad story that truly got me on the verge of near tears. i kinda wish i hadn't asked some things..back. i'm wondering how tomorrow will go.
i had a mr. mackey moment and stumbled on this bit (not said by him)--
It is sometimes hard, in times like these, to understand God's way. Why would he allow nine innocent people to be run down in the prime of their lives by a senior citizen who, perhaps, shouldn't be driving? It is then that we must understand, God's sense of humor is very different from our own. He does not laugh at the simple "man walks into a bar" joke. No, God needs complex irony and subtle farcical twists that seem macabre to you and me. All that we can hope for is that God got his good laugh and a tragedy such as this will never happen again.
there are some things i am just not suited for. right now i feel like a just minted pubescent of the female sort who just had a baby, but wishes she hadn't. you know what i mean. i'm not too ashamed to say i don't want the thing, in this scenario it will be more easily to get rid of without so much sentiment or trauma. i'd like to have things they way they was without the unnecessary stress.
yes, i am a minimalist when it comes down to love and affection. i can't be there all the time to make cuddles and soothe with my sweet voice. i can't do it..or i do it in a way that seems mean to the untrained eye. this is indeed an announcement of forthright regret and a cause of unhappiness. shit. i probably shouldn't have any children.
besides, i think you make me (physically) sick. yeah. like you can totally understand this. it's a little sad, though.
Um. This is serious. I mean, major, majorly important for people who know me and don’t know about this already.
I’m taking a leave of absence from school. (Pay close attention to the LOA part—it may not be a permanent thing yet.) I feel bad, you know, because someone else suffers, to an extent, at this expense—a great pal of mine who I’ve known for ages. There are varied and numerous reasons for this decision and I had the most harrowing time deciding what would ultimately be the best for me. This may seem like a waste—like throwing away a good thing, but really, it isn’t the place for me. Scholastically, I find the place doesn’t cater to my needs and to be brutally, really, grotesquely honest I was planning on not attending next year or transferring…as soon as I could. Maybe I’m also a bummy cheapo, too, and education isn’t the first thing on my mind at the moment—there’s so much more I could do (Ahem, approved travel to intriguing locales around the world) with the cash that’s been flowing to the place. It’s so hard to admit it publicly; the feeling of being a fucking failure as well as being categorized with my other various relatives (not that it’s bad, although I could be implying a bit of genetics here) lays a heavy burden on my being and it ain’t a nice thing. And it’s not like I’m saying it’s a terrible educational establishment—it’s great if you know what you want to do and they’ve got the classes that’ll ultimately help you reach that goal. It’s a wonderful place with trees giving off fresh air galore and scenery rivaling even the best of those in the Lord of the Rings movie trilogy (New Zealand or something, I read it some time ago in some magazine of sorts). I might just need a break from the uncertainty of it all and to finally do a bit of what I’ve always wanted to do (there’s a fair amount of ‘em on a list much like the super b-b-bang one). I need to experience shit on my own and learn from all the fuck ups I’ve never had. This is one of the few times, if not only time, in my disintegrating youth where I can have a say in my educational life without being obscenely forced into doing things others think is good for me. How are they gonna know what I’m planning to do and what gives ‘em the authority to make me do what they want? I do feel insincere; a goddamn fake, a believable liar, a sleazy conniver and for all that, especially leading you on ever so willingly, I AM SORRY. Any wonderings regarding why I didn’t come forward earlier…I don’t know—all caught up in the hype of what college was supposed to be and what it actually turned out to be. Shit. This resembles a spiel I might go through if I were breaking up with someone I’d been seeing for a long time and the relationship was all right, but I wasn’t thinking it would go anywhere and still liked the person and wanted to be friends without sounding like a whiny, unknowing bitch who can’t figure out the fuck she wants. And, uh, people who don’t know me or never will because I’m not going to said school listed on the good ol’ facebook sorry for not getting to know you better/never meeting you. I don’t think this includes many people…and I doubt most of them care at all.
Maybe I’mma take this time to grow up, start caring, and function in the economic world. I still feel miserable about breaking this news mostly in this ridiculous, impersonal fashion. The digital world makes it easy to confess while disguising the repercussions of words. I kinda wish for the simpler times of forced social deliverance. I’m something with you, but I’m not nothing without you.
I feel kinda bad. I don't know; it's just a weird, maybe guilty feeling. But what can one do when there is really nothing there? It'd so difficult to elaborate...
Well. That's about it. I miss my little pals from home. I feel like I neglected them. What sadness is induced on this day. Hum. Why can't there be more funny people like Addy? He was frickin' crazy good at making me genuinely laugh.
I don't know. Fucking bullshit. A commemorative post to those who have to care, but would really rather dismiss the issue. Damn super fucking "geniuses". Damn them all.
