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Monday, September 2nd, 2002
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9:49 am - 5,000 years have passed...
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its been a long time since an update. the reasoning behind this not being because there has been nothing to say, just not the energy/kinetics beind the source to say something. early apologies for the lack of capitalization, this computer apparently prohibits high-rising lettering.
anyway, today is anniversarial because i've been at vassar for officially one week. i have had a roller-coaster week of emotions, but one cannot find this reality surprising. i have met insanely interesting people, assholes, and people that fall/drown in the middle. actually, i haven't met any assholes, just people i don't cope beautifully with. this log may sound somber but i am surprisingly upbeat. i just had my first sociology course, which sounded incredibly interesting. there will be a large amount of reading but nothing too-demanding. i have a calculus course at 12-12:50 and then my academic day finalizes. tomorrow is psych, classics, and yes -- the hard - fundamental volleyball (i took it for the .5 credit that my advisor suggested in case i want to take one less class next semester. )
i've fallen in love with a few people already. i have 3 roommates, all of which are generally copasetic. they aren't the cleanest people, but they are sweet and hardly irritable or caustic. wait, that's probably me. naturally, i've made thousands of more girl-friends than guy-friends due to my predetermined affinity for that sex, and my natural, inability to deal with my own.
the campus is absolutely astounding, despite the already experienced 3 days of sullen rain-falling that has left the floors muddy, clothes soaked, and hair glistened and un-styled. the gothiqueness is pretty, though, as ingrid would probably say. i have kept up with family and friends despite my cry of alienation that i had promised them all. but it is also only the first week, and the time for strange habits has not yet passed (as i must keep reminding myself).
i am eating properly, although initially i was eating nothing due to the time it takes me to adjust/adapt to new environments and diets that coerced into my face. i promised myself that i would go running either in the morning or at night but i haven't begun this tradition yet and am not sure whether i will. i also wanted to do rowing but this first semester seems packed and i don't want to rush into it eyet, but at the same time feel that if i don't start it early-on, i probably will never do it at all.
yesterday was a fair for all the campus-groups, and i must've joined just about everything due to the gifts that were being given out [ a la condoms, lolly-pops, and sticker-labels on my back that say 'touched by a pagan' ].
i am fairing emotionally well.
my survival rate is pinioned somewhere between 65-85%.
but it is only the first week.
...i have to keep reminding myself of that. ...
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| Sunday, August 11th, 2002
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5:10 pm - This was close considering Edea and Quistis.
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3:24 pm - But ...I had to.
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| Friday, August 2nd, 2002
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5:01 pm - ....surprisingly enough.
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| Monday, July 29th, 2002
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12:00 pm
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How Will You Die?
..........I saw Les-Mes with Anna on Saturday. It was ....awesome [much as everyone had promised] - I doubt it would've been as good as it was if SHE wasn't there. It's interesting that the presenc eof a special person can change an entire event. This could also work both ways - but not this time.
I've prepared myself to go to college for months now. I'm not so sure how easy Goodbye is going to be anymore. You try to image yourself as someone perfectly detached and reserved until you realize that you are possible of emotion and pain and everything isn't so black and white anymore.
...Sometimes we live in the gray (ironic considering with my infatuation with that color). I am intensely excited in anticipation for school, but it WILL be hard. And I will have to adjust and adapt - something I've always had to do.
...what's creepy is that the "Come What May" Song from Moulin-Rouge is playing and it has creepy lucidity right now. I should stop now and say no more.
...............later.
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| Sunday, July 28th, 2002
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1:09 pm - [ lez pray Anna-baby don't read this ] -
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| Wednesday, July 24th, 2002
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12:01 am - The Ever-Ready Ghosts of [Christmas] Past.
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There is no escape from the past. No escape from the roads we've traveled, the choices we've made, and the people we intermingled with.
Yes. We can claim evolution and departure. We can live believing that what was done is done -- and what is now, is now. But we were not granted with the ability to forget and shed off the dead-layers of skin that form over time-periods of 'thick and thin.' No ...............rather we wear these dead-layers over and over just in different colours and shades, pretending we are NEW : but we've hardly changed.
I've made horrible, horrible choices.
I regret one more than anything else. But it's like regretting a disease; you didn't expect it, you couldn't prepare for it, and you had to undergo it till you are healed from it.
We don't always heal. We don't always MOVE ON. Sometimes, we NEVER MOVE on and our psych clings to the past as if it were as pertinent as the future. [maybe it is, maybe non].
I hate somebody. I hate someone so much that they WILL forever boil underneath my skin and bite away at me. I admit it, I never claimed to have forgotten and released. My admittance doesn't free me it only allows me ot cope more thoroughly with the situation.
I wish I could let it go. I wish it could be undone like a weight upon my spine, but it cannot. It stays there- caked and bound to me ever-strongly with a persistence that will never die.
I want to time-travel and change.
How childish that sounds, and I rarely sound childish. But it is the most fluid statement I can render.
I want the pain-throbbing to cease:
- even if it is small
- even if it is weak
- even if it lasts for just a second
- even though it's from a hundred-years ago.
I've ....ached during these last hundred years. And I don't think it will stop-soon.
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| Tuesday, July 16th, 2002
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1:19 am - UnFAITHfully Driven.
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Initially, I wanted to discuss Adaptation. The concept of 'adapting' for survival, although not necessarily physical survival as much as societal-survival but now I'm subterfuging somewhere else.
RELIGION.
------------------- : Admirable or Zealous?
I am Religious when I want to be. I am not religious when I should be.
Some people are whimsically religious, others are spontaneously religious -- some are spiritually religious, and many are RARELY religious. I've always categorized myself as Agnostic. [quick def: Agnosticism is simplistically the concept of accepting the existence of a God while being unaware of which one(s) it is. ]
The reason being is that I do believe in Originism [my own word - belief in something having an origin greater than itself ]. So ......by my simple methodology, we must've drained from something higher. Something greater. What? I dunno.
I find quietly religious people admirable. Their-goings to Church/Temple/Mosque due to their own inner-drive to be spiritual is quite an honorable duty. While I despise those that wish to push their ideals onto me like a blanket which could easily smother by homeostatic well-being.
Are we all innately prone to being religious due to an inner-drive to have hope that death is NOT the end? Or are we innately prone to deny the existence of a higher-being due to our skeptical nature and inability to believe in something that escapes the logical physics of our science-soaked world?
But .....why believe in love? Love is hardly quantifiable [although Skinnerians probably could in fact quantify it (Hell, Freud-man tried)]. But .....can we not attest to Love's strength and existence and steady and ever exasperating control in our lives? Love is .....in a sense a God. It causes us to do so much.
It can damn us.
It can save us.
.....it is everything we are and everything we're not.
Does this make Sex: Satan? [one God too many]
current mood:  curious
current music: Losing My Religion - REM
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| Thursday, July 11th, 2002
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1:02 am - Scar-tissue surfacing clear.
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I realized something. I realized how I never let people know how much they hurt and affect me. I never allow them to be aware of how deeply they can cut under my skin, pulsing there with their steady reminders of the pain they can cause me. I don't. It's a glimpse of weakness and I don't want even a glimmer to show.
I don't know why I do it. I don't know if it's because of how I fear they might react [with sympathy], or how they won't react [with stoicism] -- but moreover, I fear the simple admittance of the pain will hurt me even more. I can't - I can't deal with it. I can't allow anyone to know how much I can burn inside. I always shadow and gauze things with comments of how 'irritated' or 'vexed' I can become, but never hurt. Never scarred.
But ..............people can hurt me and I don't live in a diamond-shell fully protected from the outside malign-rays of the people I deal with. I can become entirely fucked up in a zero-to-one second velocity and I can lie in bed at night, wretchedly considering what had just happened.
I'm not cold and irresponsive and inhuman. I'm not ALWAYS analyzing the rest of the world. I'm not always fully calculating and quantifying others, because sometimes I am considering myself. It's strange. It's strange that I can better compute and translate the mechanisms of my friends than the 'mutations' of myself. That's what I am to myself - something unknown and alien. I've gotten deeper into the psyches of others than that into my own. And I still can't because ......I don't understand it.
I played ping pong with Joe. We always play and I always lose. He desperately tries to get me better and I become so livid because I don't want his help and I'd rather lose than be fostered. We play a game again and I say that I want to play without his comments just a real game. I lose like 22-21. I'm happy that I lost but that I did so well also.
......then he tells me that he gave me a 15 point lead. He did it to 'help me' -- and even if he did, my insides are churning. The whole situation is childish/pointless, but it has provoked me to write and scribble this little piece together. The littlest shit can send me on a tailspin. Can make me entirely self-loathing and self-deprecating. Can make me suicidal.
Is it melodrama and over-emotion. Hormones switching and slicing through sensitive inner-workings?
I don't know. ..........but I am in pain.
current mood:  crushed
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| Tuesday, July 9th, 2002
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10:59 pm - Vignettes of my Life. [Poetrilog - 4]
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My life was a book. It had a cover of blood and cream-colored vinyl. It had binding of metal, tied on a twisted spiral of haphazard directions. It has pages of emptiness, so waiting to be filled, to be given a minor purpose. I left one of those natural sheets to you - a chance for your importance to be stained against my insides, my heart. But, that page is empty still, but you asked for absolution, for you believed it wasn't your fault - your pen had run out of ink. . . .
current mood:  drained
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(comment on this)
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| Monday, July 1st, 2002
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12:15 am - Shits and Giggles.
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| Sunday, June 30th, 2002
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8:15 pm - Graduation Party.
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I attended my Cousin's graduation party today; these parties are always interesting because it usually involves my sister and I departing from the forming groups of people [we do not know] and disappearing into the backdrop for a cig. Today was different because I found myself consorting and conversing with people [I do not know] but having a very good time.
Although to some this may seem a regularity in the flux of their lives, to me it really isn't. When I was younger, I very rarely initiated conversation with anyone outside the normal group I had machinated for myself -- but now ....it seems I've developed a way to flow with people. I no longer feel strange and awkward, but witty and comfortable. This isn't self-righteousness, just self-awareness.
I guess everyone knows what it feels like [some specials more than others] -- being at a party while wrapped in the blackness of one's own insecurities. Usually you find your mind questioning whether every well-dressed pretty-faced person in the room is secretly [although not secretly] spreading rumors about your own ugliness. All eyes pinpointing your flaws and spreading them surgery-table style all over the floor. That was me. And that was also some of my friends. You feel like you are constantly in a hole of judgment with everyone spitting their "truths" at you.
I still feel this way sometimes. I always will I guess. But I am more assured with myself. More comfortable that I know what the fuck I'm talking about and that I am an attractive person. My sister, while taking me aside for a cancer-break[smokery] -- told me that she thinks she has an eating disorder and that she feels she is ugly. I returned this foolish statement with a revelation about how everyone is jealous of her beauty and how guys comment on her sexiness all the time. She hugged me. She then coincided that with "you're really sexy too" and "you have a great body" -- for the first time I actually think she was being sincere and not just "returning the favor."
Either way, I'm .....................ready for college. I'm ready to drown in the newness of strange faces and clashing attitudes/actions. Moreover, I cannot wait for it. Tomorrow I will fill out my class information and all those insane applications without worry but anticipation.
[I pray] Vassar WILL be good. It will be interesting and I will enjoy it.
If not I'll just fuck everyone and make my own fun.
enough for today, children?
current mood:  optimistic
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(comment on this)
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| Tuesday, June 25th, 2002
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1:04 pm - N o n s e n s i c a l . . . . . . . . . .
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Yesterday.
Yesterday.
Yesterday.
I guess this is the moment of relapse; the seconds taken to consider the previous day's actions/circumstances. The bitter needle-driven time for realization in which you consequently wince twicefold (first for instant remembrance, secondly for that which was once forgotten).
It began normal and humorous. Joe came over and we battled -- SOMEONE WAS GOING TO DIE AND IT WASN'T GOING TO BE ME [of course I died but so did he]. When he departed, Anna arrived and we headed to the Westchester for the clothes. I basically whole-bled into Armani Exchange (and bought Cargo-pants in J.CREW which were essential for the continuation of the summer but what have you). We had pizza and screwed around at my house [she's going to kick my ass for being so vulgar -------------- but its h o t to be vulgar].
Then .......Morgan. Morgan who called me and I persuaded to have Starbucks that night. A night that initialized with rampant yelling/mocha-frap-drinking in Bronxville with the Nazistic Bronxville-teens staring us down for not preserving their special-special worlds which had taken so long to build up. Our response to the coherent and scintillating madness: WE'RE NOT FROM AROUNDDDDDDD HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Then - she came over to watch the Second-season of Sex and the City which my sister had received for her b-day. Yes. I had some Vodka-laced Iced Tea. This isn't about that, and it never was. I was tipsy, but balanced.
We talked.
.................................I mean -- talked.
And talked.
And talked.
There was more talking then, and more talking to follow.
Minds were raped-clean and eyes were tired-sore with lips hanging out and annoyance siphoning through our bloodstream. This present writing Morgan would've described as 'poetic' -- I consider it much clearer than the nonsense of simplistic declaritive English.
It ended with her turning her back and storming off her to car and me mad-mad dashing into my house. I removed my contacts, melted into bed (where I received 2-3 hours of sleep) only to be awakened to scribble this into our pretty, pretty technocratic world.
I'm never this explicit with things, but maybe that's the point being made.
More/less is known about me, about her, and about the fuck-upedness of everything.
There is NO normalcy for me.
..............that would be too easy.
current mood: tired
current music: Bjork
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| Monday, June 17th, 2002
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5:39 pm - "I Never Promised you a [Truthful Response]"
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I am now reading I Never Promised You a Rose Garden by Joanne Greenberg (a la Morgan's request/ sidenote: finished Como Agua Para Chocolate in 6-hour period ]. I find it comical that the books I read seem to subterfuge from one odd genre to the next-- I guess that can be translated as eclectic, but I'm unsure.
This book is entirely different. Synoptically-speaking, it entails the mental-isolation of a girl who creates a fantasy world (self-entitled "Yr") which is ruled by (Greek-sounding) Gods and a populus that abhors her. The book jumps from reality to un-reality paragraphically, and it's actually frightening while at the same time ironically CLEAR. I find myself constantly re-reading pages which is a Good thing, it shows I am seeking clarity and that is essential to comprehension. This book will take more time to read, not because of the volume or length but due to it's mental requirement for psychological translation. Moreover, it coerces me to write but we're not getting into that.
Last night was ......interesting. Went out with Morgan and Brienne -- found myself judging and advising once more and although my words were practical and important, I wonder if their source is diluted (wonder or know -- hmm?).
It's an interesting equation to consider, and this isn't about last night as much as it involves everthing Ever said. Do lies have the ability of clarifying truth even if they are lies? Basically, fuck the damned seed if the flower sprouts in perfection. My metaphors are spinning, handle and whatnot.
This book gives cause for introspection. Most do -- some more than others.
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| Sunday, June 16th, 2002
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1:27 pm - Wolven.
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 | My sphere is Guardian (Person of great Love and Altruism), and my class is Defender (Peaceful, yet Potent). I am a Warden. To be a Warden is to be the ultimate Guardian. Whether a physical Guardian or an essential Guardian, is up to you. You may be both. To be a physical Guardian is to be a living, breathing testament to the love you carry for a person, or people, whose lives you will always defend if you possibly can. To be an essential Guardian is to be a living, breathing testament to the security that your wards seek, and will look to you for your always kind, always nurturing support. What kind of Warrior are you? |
This survey actually made some sense. I do often see myself as guarding and assisting others when they deal with difficult situations [mental-guardian/therapist much?]. It isn't necessarily a bad thing as much as it is a shield from hiding my inner-clockwork while examining the workings of others.
Counter-projectiles whilst living.
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| Thursday, June 13th, 2002
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7:48 pm - Monster's Ball[ing]
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I just finished watching Monster's Ball with Halle Berry and B.B.T. Ironically, the movie was incredibly good -- both funny and sad at the same time. I now understood why Halle Berry did in fact won an oscar although I am still in shock that Angelina [baby] is married to Billy Bob.
While talking about Jolie, last night I watched Original Sin with Angelina and Antonio Banderas -- also an excellent movie. It is rare that my sister selects good/interesting/fulfilling movies so the situation unraveled wonderfully. I have intentions to read Como Agua Para Chocolate [Like Water for Chocolate]. I recently finished A Density of Souls [ a la Brian's request] and that was also an interesting/dark book.
Like Water for Chocolate is a more romantic although paranormal movie. The spanish have this method of writing called Magical Realism which I'm still slowly recovering. On a comedic note, I was reading Naked, by David Sedaris, due to my sister's reccomendation and I accidentally left it outside in the rain. Soaked, it was.
SO -- I DID WHAT ANY PERSON WOULD DO. I put the book inside the Dryer. DO NOT PUT BOOKS IN THE DRYER. When I opened the door, there were sliced pages ALL OVER THE PLACE. It was actually a funny way to learn a lesson but I have to secretly buy my sister a new book. Heh. I won't tell until after.
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| Monday, June 10th, 2002
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7:46 pm - Angel-Eyes.
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| Friday, June 7th, 2002
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10:55 am - B u z z e d --------------------
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| Thursday, June 6th, 2002
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6:06 pm - Quizzes.
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| Monday, June 3rd, 2002
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10:48 am - Quizzes to Calm.
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ditzy
