i know i am pure

there are those who believe the world revolves around them. proud, important people; it's perfectly reasonable for self-proclaimed awesome beings. if you're somebunny like me, though, you might think, "hey, why am i so great?"
the world has been revolving before my existence and it would keep revolving without me. why the fuck should it matter.
retrospectives are in order with some of the free time i've had. the one thing i realized was how horribly far away my actual life is from what i planned out when i was five. yes, it's disappointing, but not so much that i feel it's the end of the world. or that i should drastically change everything. seeing it turn out different makes me a tad upset; spending all those years making sure i would finish an academic career at st. john's lutheran school, continue at st. john high school, and get into that champagne college--dreams for fucking naught. how aggravating it was to see the hopes and dreams flutter away and being too young, stubborn, and feeble-minded to conjure up new ideas of a wonderful life in the real west. perhaps it was the result of absolute devastation. yes. that must have been it.

i have prolonged the teenager in me indefinitely. most likely not going to leave that stage anytime soon.

with all the new fangled things that have happened and that haven't i still wouldn't change anything. for the first time a long time since this crazy, angsty perpetuation of my life i'm relatively happy. it's not all the time (god, how miserable the days are), but in the right setting it can be absolutely blissful. the universe could implode explode, be destroyed by aliens raging an intergalactic war and i wouldn't give two shits about it. as long as i'm in the happy state anything could happen and it would be ok.
let's not get into what i'm like when that feeling isn't there. we won't delve into what i feel now. it's not necessary.

hmmm. onto more memorable past relics: i was going through my closet today, cleaning it out mostly, and i came across the tiny valentine's one passes out to classmates in elementary school. a whole fucking slew of them. a folded up piece of notebook paper, ragged edges gracing one side where it had been ripped out, caught my eye. as i started to unfold and open the thing my heart skipped a beat. was this that thing? that one thing that i had been looking for since i've been here? the paper that might've been lost forever???
well,
it was. here it is.

look at that! it was the first number i ever got from a boy i liked! no fourth grade girl could resist something as romantic as this...he's so fit in the drawing, but you know in real life he was a rather scrawny boy with a cute, innocent 10-year-old face. i treasured this thing when i received it, so shocked he'd even give me such a wonderful bit of art and information. somewhere between there and here the paper was misplaced and i've been wondering what had happened to it all these years.
i didn't call him when i got here.
a ten year old girl in a phone call situation with a boy she likes gives more than butterflies in the stomach.
i was/am more timid than most.
i don't plan on calling him now.
why would i be silly and do that after waiting 13 years?

methinks the word is Mum

this is indeed a disturbing universe.
something to worry about, be fearful of, scorn over.

Too due

here's to hopeless wishful thinking i'll get to have fun before fall hits (or a list of things i'd like to do by then):

-beach
-zoo/aquarium
-watch a film in a theater(i don't mean the one where i've been working at..unless there's something good showing. the couches there sure look comfy.)
-visit a dog
-pranzare a un ristorante buono
-see buddy holly again. at least once. ... who am i kidding?? i want the weekly hangouts back!
-find a way out of this country
-cream
-girl talk*
-art museum
-long walks to nowhere
-tacos
-be "happy"

i'm going to do as many of these things as possible. that most likely entails i'll be going alone. ... hmm, it's not like i ever do things with other people anyway.
*you need not be a girl to engage in this sort of talk with me, but the dynamics of this specific talk should be understood.

ain't misberating

these past two days were extremely productive! it distracted me from the harrowing thoughts flooding my brain recently. i have eruditely acquired too much information on how a certain language should work and i'm quite pleased with the results. this needs to get done.
however,
there are still bouts of anxiety.



replace "girl" with "boy".

fauxriental

i wish you would call.
please.

she will have to cry

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.

curse these feminine qualities.

tornando ai film again

hello. i don't remember the last time i talked about a movie in a sort of review style. i know it was something i used to do, especially when i started posting on the regular and when i was taking those film classes and such three or four years ago. maybe i haven't seen anything worth mentioning since then (most likely the case), but today i would like to bring attention to les emotifs anonymes.

i absolutely relished this film to the full extent, rarely something i will admit to for a film with content such as this. i'm not normally the one to enjoy dramas and romances and comedies too often...i suppose there's too much to think about and keep track of once the film gets going and my upbringing on senseless violence has attributed to this so i end up spacing out or becoming jaded with the trite and banal plot. or i end up super emotional (damn you eternal sunshine).

les emotifs anonymes was different from the usual fare because i felt as if it was a representation of how i go about things, perhaps more of how i used to, and what's happening in terms of "i'm shy and awkward and you're shy and awkward....it's kind of a bad match" incident as of late. all i could think was, "god, that's basically me. i'm really almost that level of shy...holy fuck." it was just...i don't know, i felt as if it summed up what was going with me.
the plot revolves around a française chocolate maker who is part of a self-help therapy group à la AA where she reveals her struggles with shyness and love. she becomes employed at a chocolate-making shop(..? is that what you call those sort of places?), becoming the object of affection for her boss, an equally shy and awkward man who has a great love for women, but is too afraid to approach them romantically. it was an enjoyable to watch them interact in train-wrecking fashion over the most normal of everyday activities.
and i was maybe swayed a bit because it was a french film. i do enjoy those in general. most times. when the mood strikes.

i could relate to the awkwardness immensely.


i really had a wonderful time viewing this; it was magical in a weird way...i don't know. maybe you have to be a quiet, shy, covert romantic to understand why this film is good. i highly recommend giving it a watch.

it was pleasant to see this in the backgroud throughout the film, too.

this is Pierre Niney. it's almost as bad as my last obsession with Gaspard Ménier.