Selective Memory and Selective Everything

It puzzles me, it really does. What am I doing wrong? I seem to give so much, care so much... it's not enough. People still just forget who I am, toss me around, throw me away. They get tired. I hate it. Maybe I need to take a second and be a jackass to everyone. Maybe it'll reassure them that I'm human so it's ok to care about me again, to recognize me as a human being... because I'm flawed and cruel just like they are. 

Another thing, people seem to block you out of their lives because they want to lie to themselves because their own betrayals and carelessness has transformed you into a symbol. Some symbol they no longer want to recognize because it hurts them and it hinders them from realizing that they're "happy". Fallacies and ungratefulness, that's all people seem to be capable of. Nothing is sacred.

My friend, I call her my best friend... and she can't even make time for me. She can't even send me a text; we both know this should not be any sort of inconvenience to her because it's all she does. 

There was this stranger, I thought I loved him... he really was just a mirage, false comfort, to reassure myself that I'm capable of being soft.

There are my parents, sometimes I think they take me for granted.

There is everyone else... they don't appreciate me and take me for granted.

There was this old friend, I met up with her a couple of nights ago; she's still the same. I love her, despite the fact that the tone of her voice has changed; she's become less convincing in tone... she may even be faking, but she's the epitome of what a friend is.

There are these admirers, I worry that I'm not what they expect; they should move on, not bother at all. 

Current Addictions

What? I'm watching a vampire series on HBO? Hmmm, there's not a big enough analogy enlaced with sarcasm to tackle this one... tsk, tsk.


"maybe it's life's way of clearing things out that aren't working out" -why life sucks according to this show.

the girl who only believed in lies.

speaking in metaphors never helped anyone.

Life on a Dentist Chair

Just came home from my dentist appointment. They took x-rays after x-rays of my fugly teeth today... it seemed endless. Anyway though, as I sat there, feeling as if I was unaffected by everything. Frankly, everything is affecting me all at once at the moment. I am overwhelmed by this ongoing battle between overwhelming happiness and abyssmal depression. Which is it? Am I whole or am I broken? Well, actually overwhelming happiness and abyssmal depression are both "wholes", it's subjective. Almost two years in college and all I've learned, all I've kept coming back to is this line between surrealism and "sub-realism". No, I really don't mean realism. I only have my former Vis 84 professor to thank for what I know about life now. Well, not "know" but "grasp"; you can never really know anything. Knowing that you'll never really know anything makes life's transitions less painful. Which actually reminds me of a random thought I had the other day...

There I was, 3 in the morning, procrastinating, not studying for a final that's about to take place in 5 hours... and all I can think of are the words "lost in translation", which lead me to ponder about the movie about how it related to life. Life is nothing but a myriad of transitions, edited together by people's so-called "free will"/ choice and then held together by the lifetime you live, from the time you are born to the time you cease to exist. Now the whole concept of "lost in translation" is the realization of a previous scene to the next; if something is edited, then it is not at all continuous... this is how all things become lost in translation, and I think this is how people begin to change... great friends one day, bitter enemies the next and so forth. 

Lastly, I realized that the only man I can really fall in love with, ever, is Chris Carrabba. 

Morning Wood

Have you ever had an unsaid connection with someone? As if there was something greater, lurking silently in the air? Between you and someone else?

Cliche, I know. Right? I think I had that tonight, with the most un-obvious person. I'm not sure if I'm the only person I know that knows who he is, but he was there tonight, in a striped sweater. Stefano. Mmm with his beautiful eyes... I feel like a stalker. haha

Life has so many minute details that we often miss. I'm noticing those details more and more now. I don't know what's changed... perhaps my appetite for living life? I think I might be on academic probation once again this quarter. I'm not as worried I suppose, I know what to do. It's a lot like life I guess. Life puts you on these probations when you fail at something and then you bounce back... well, and if you don't you end up 6 feet under from some sort of vice; much like with school and procrastination and everything in between. Except with life it's drugs, sex and alcohol... and then maybe you end up in the streets as a bum begging for a second chance; much like with writing an appeal in college. You may get it, you may not I suppose... and once again that's how people end up dead, either literally or as in a state of mind. Isn't that true about bums? Are we all bums? Transients really. I guess that's where whoever refers to bums as transients got that concept from... we're not constantly on probation.

In other news, if I could love my friends and family more... perhaps I would explode.

let's chronicle today...

-woke up at 2:36 PM

-elma calls
-elma comes over
-we go to divine pastabilities
-carb coma -__-
-chill with rena and stella
-more carbs= alcoholic beverages, yuck!
-a blurry night filled with food and random conversations
-journal therapy
-semi-manicure
-planning out the weekend

p.s. i need to sleep less and face the world >_<


currently obsessed with: boy with squirrel on top of his head and thrift stores haha

life.

i need to become a happier person.

Language Barriers

I saw this picture today from high school and it triggered a certain memory. It reminded me of this boy, his name was James San Roman... he was beautiful. That's really the only way to describe how I remember him. I also remembered really liking him. It was one of those adolescent crushes I guess, but I just thought about how many "what if" thoughts and memories I had about this guy. You see, we had this thing going on called a language barrier -__-. What if he was able to understand me? Would it have been a silly adolescent crush still? Or what if he would have realized how much of a waste of time I was? Who knows... Fuck, you language barrier. 

the world is sleeping but i have so much to say.

fuck. no need for an exclimation point; i am simply pissed. pissed; that's a funny expression. pissed because i "pissed" my pants for being so mad? that makes sense.

GAH stupid library... i just got an e-mail saying that i still haven't returned ONE frickin' book. wtf i swear i returned all that shit... i counted! i borrowed EIGHT, i returned EIGHT. secondly, i hate LIARS!!! oh, and people who think higly of themselves... actually, i like to group those two together; liars and those who think highly of themselves oh, and let me just interject "assholes who talk shit about you behind your back!". THIRDLY! i effing hate the people who live above me. i think they're on the verge of a break up... but FUCK! do it already bitches!!! it's 3 in the fucking morning! kick that bastard out and call it a night! obviously, fact; guys are assholes! you're gonna meet and greet plenty more of them; just accept it! move on to the next asshole please!!! let me get my fucking beauty sleep!!!! yeah, because i need to look fucking gorgeous for the next guy i'm gonna meet and then treat me like shit ok??? yeah, fuck you cycle of life. i wish life could be personified into some sort of organism right now so it can see my giant middle finger up in the air. ugh -__- i feel like kanye west minus the fucking caps lock... but i think the exclimation points were necessary. 

p.s. i hope i fucking find that library book. shit. 

My Fashion Icon

Fugazi

I'm in that Fuguzi-listening, angry college girl from the 90's who wears ironic glasses phase... where's my alternative guy? Wait, those girls don't keep guys; it's taboo. Oops.

In other non-idealist news...

I saw some black guy getting arrested today at LJ shores. He had some cup filled with alcohol. The cop who arrested him was as typical as it gets; beer belly, bald, donut-eating mutha fuckaaaaa. Whoa, excuse my language.

Conundrum, I think I just farted.

I just realized that my blog/ blog musings are well... immature. Perhaps because it's full of honesty.

Clever Stories Await

*SIGH

I want to feel like that girl again who falls asleep listening to pseudo-love songs and smiles thinking about silly things like falling in love.

Lately, it hasn't been like that. Life has been feeling more like a risque indie film with no plot; just full of provocative moments.

I got my first booty call tonight. I never thought I'd get one of those. It was like a bad car accident waiting to happen that you couldn't stop watching. I knew what it was, yet I couldn't hang up; I wanted to hear... Now I know. Let's keep it at that.

It's 5AM, I find sleep to be overrated these days. Whenever I close my eyes I feel as if I'm missing something; everything is significant I feel. When I blink, I miss that moment. It's gone forever.

Maybe I'll read. I haven't read in a while. I miss spending each weekend just snuggling up to a good book with some good music in the background. I miss the "weekendly" trips to the record store with my dad. I miss buying a new CD each weekend and finding something new each time; I miss the feeling of being underground, being "cool". I miss my teal room with the lone white heart in the center on Via de la Bandola. I miss the green house with its green carpet... I miss my neighbor Jose who used to throw rocks on my window yelling at me to come outside and ride bikes. I miss the little sketchy short cut behind my school. I miss my teal-colored walls and the lightly dimmed room that captured my imagination; I miss childhood.

*SIGH

What clever stories await?

Coward Boy

You tell people lies.
You lie to yourself.
You lie to me.

You spread words,
You've told someone that I was pathetic,
"... I kept coming back to you."
YOU know the truth.

Your existence is meaningless.
You'll only ever have your acquaintances
You'll only ever have the mindless girls who fancy your looks; but looks are fickle.
You'll only ever have yourself.

You're heart is made from the fumes hell's unforgiving flames,
You're at fault.
You won't let me speak my mind to you because you can't handle the truth.
You can't handle honesty, you have no ounce of humanity.

You've hurt me, but you've only made me stronger;
Revenge will find its way to you;
You disgust me.
You deserve nothing, you have nothing, you'll always be nothing.

I knew more than I knew before.

Why do people hurt so much? Why do I choose the wrong people?

Are we built to self-destruct, destroy; to disappoint?

Will I have the rest of my life to look forward to? Will things be different?

Am I a horrible person? Why am I getting trampled on?

What should I change about myself? I have a fear of anger, I had a fear of anger; it drives people to craziness. Why have I given in? I don't want to be angry, but it seems inevitable. Will he get what he deserves in the end? Does he know I'm talking about him, does he know what I'm talking about?
When will the next significant person in my life come along? Why won't they hurry? I'm drowning.

Rage on the Page

Ugly, messy, disorganized... that's how I feel right now; it's almost empowering.

"... hard to be soft, tough to be tender."

-you're so right elma, this really is my favorite line as well ^_^




Emily H. so powerful... so inspiring.

I know what anger feels like right this second.


Thanks for everything Erk, after all these years of separation... we're still connected.

Disposable Beings

It's 3:08AM and my life is in great chaos. There's so many things due but I'm behind. Life demands me to be happy again because it's time to move on... but where has Jenny gone? She's been destroyed forever, she can only be repaired but never again be the same.

why are you such a miserable person alex? how do you ask yourself if you've ever been in love? you're only in love with yourself. you fool yourself into thinking that you're capable of loving another being other than yourself by thinking you're in love. love love love... what a miserable word. love has always been toyed with, tarnished, distorted, lied to, betrayed... it's such a helpless matter. if you ever read this...

you've made me feel worthless; i meant something once... to myself. now i don't know who i am. i've gone out and done things i'm not proud of to experiment and find out who i am again. am i loveable? am i worth anything? you've made me feel like a disposable being. you've used me to feed your need to feel like you exist, that you mean something in this world. no, it's not that others have a misconception of you... in fact, they're usually quite right. you are an asshole. you're not worth loving; you're ungrateful and you deserve nothing.

yes, i will go on living forever thinking that you are the biggest asshole on this planet. you've deceived me so much and disposed of me like garbage, like an evolving life killed prematurely. you've made me question myself, you've made me feel like dying, you've made me feel like i can never attain anything real anymore; real love, real connection, you've made me feel like giving up, it's all your fault. it has nothing to do with me at all... i believed you for some time that I am the reason for the way i was feeling after we broke up... but no your intentions and your actions now are causations for all the hurt i'm feeling right this very second. it hurts so much that it no longer resembles pain; i feel half alive. i can only hope you'll lead a life that's as meaningless as mine is now. maybe only then will pain begin to ease and subside...

cognitive distortions

sometimes people distort realities to fit their particular desire... they want to believe things are a certain way to coincide with their assumptions or how they want situations to play out. i thought i surpassed anger at this point, but disagreements are giant road blocks to carefree recovery.


"should"; i despise that word. puke.

i should do this, i should do that... i don't want to.

i think i've realized just a little bit that certain people in life are and will become negligible; they are not worth the efforts of cognitive distortions. sentiments just get people into trouble... i think that's the only thing i've surpassed thus far; having a sentimental heart.

morning, fuck.

it's 11 past 7AM, i just got home...

i'm tired, cranky, indifferent...
i finally can fall asleep and as i pathetically attempt to do so there's that annoying piece of sentiment that rings that makes me remember something i no longer have... i know, wtf am i talking about? it doesn't matter, i can only be ambiguous about certain things now. my life can only be one honest ambiguity after another...

lately, i have not been myself.

who is the person i see in the mirror everyday?

she's gone out and done things... differently. she's lived/living differently.

Garcon sur le Velo Part Deux

Ran into him again tonight. It was at a red stop light :)

Frustration.

Most things in life are incontrollable... the only thing you have control over is to lose control.

I have 2 midterms today. Basically, I'm fucked.

I've spiraled out of control as of late... I've let outside forces affect me so greatly. I allowed grief to blindfold me and lose track of things that are truly important. What once felt like the greatest high was simply temporary and the consequences and obstacles that surrounded it were beyond my control; but it was attainable for everyone else it seems.

It's 9:14 AM and in about an hour I will witness what weakness and momentary foolishness has created. Dwelling is for the sentimental and the stubborn and those who care a little too much... that sounds just like me.

In the end what was lost is just a reflection of what has been gained... there are new things to pursuit now; I shouldn't be so down on myself. Yet, there are so many things and people to blame and pinpoint and feel animosity towards... are they all just disposable? Yes. At least they should be.

I am going to fail.

At least for today.

Garcon sur le Velo

-Have 2 midterms tomorrow
-Haven't studied much
-10:30 pm Yogurtland trip
-Beautiful boy on a bike gazes into my eyes and says "thank you"
-Tried to slap his butt as he biked away
-He looks back and notices and smiles.


Le fin.

comfort in cycles

i was at work the other day when i realized that everyone seems to find a sense of comfort in cycles...

it's like everyone at work is so comforted by the fact that they'll always get a 15 minute break every 2 hours or a 30 minute lunch

or

a girl with menstrual cycles... it's comforting to know that you're still young enough to have a cycle or that you're not fucked yet; you're not pregnant.

or

the cycle of seasons... maybe this cold winter will pass, maybe this long summer will pass, and maybe... spring will come again.

or

the cycle of the weekend coming and ending the endless weekdays

or

the cycle of relationships ending and starting

or

the cycle of life and death

or

the cycle of knowing everything and not knowing anything again

i seem to find solace in cycles myself. it's comforting to know that what comes around will go around... not necessarily in the same way, sometimes what returns is changed.

It's Morning, I'm Awake

I wake up to lost and confusion, my true companions.
There's no answer and so I cry, overwhelmed.
Eventually my mind begins to get weary;
I lose track... why am I so sad?
The day ends,
I fall asleep in the arms of hope.

Training Wheels

Devastation exists to confront weaknesses, testing them, stretching them... how much you can really love is tested; this is why pain is intangible yet so palpable.


12:41 AM, Monday, 3 Nov 2008 ----> Rise with fists.

Jenny Lewis

I saw Jenny Lewis last night. She's so empowering and real with her silky voice that makes anyone believe what she sings. She's been around since the 80's and I could tell she was getting old now. Her hair slightly lost its sheen and the sadness in her voice as she sang each word became more and more palpable. You can tell, she's been through a lot. Her lyrics tell you that she was there at some point in time; she was at heart ache, bliss and everything in between. I wish she could give me some of her strength because just when I think I'll be ok I falter, lose control again. I hate how circumstances have left me short-handed; I'm the girl who drew the shorter straw. I'm sure though, she's been through rougher storms. It's odd how a stranger can treat you better than the one who loves you or loved you or pretended to love you... Jenny, she comforted me last night. She cradled me in her arms like a newborn baby, unaware and innocent of the world again. She sang me lullabies that took away the pain, she made forget; there was only me and her. She's a true artist. She manipulated me, she used her tools and weapons to made me feel again... I was her finished piece. At the moment, someone's just kicked me off the pedestal and I broke into a million pieces again... someone will come around to care and fix me one day.

c'est la vie

"so it goes..."

-Kurt Vonnegut in Slaughterhouse Five

Life is love is like a slaughterhouse five in Dresden where you meet the good and bad that make up your story.

Your Heart is an Empty Room

Over and done but the feelings linger,
thin and invisible like the air creeping over.






War of head versus heart
My mind is weak, my heart always speaks...
But you can't find nothing at all when there was nothing there all along...

<3 Ben Gibbard

Anger

I feel like being Alanis Morisette... I don't even know how to spell her name. Doesn't matter, I feel like being her; to be writing angry songs about the men in her life who have betrayed her.

I feel as if I've been reduced to nothing. I'm just a floating particle no longer wanting a stimulus... I don't wanna feel.

Love Lost; I Fought the War, but the War Won.

Usually when it comes to blogs or any form of writing I prefer to speak in metaphors. I'm good at it. I guess I'm an awesomely vague individual. No need to be ambiguous this time around though. There's plenty of that in the world already. I know that now.

This past weekend I lost the love of my life. No, he hasn't died, but it's similar. He's fallen out of love with me and I think I'm getting there myself each day. I think we just never really fell in love with each other at the same time. In the beginning he loved me more than I loved him and towards the end it became opposite. I say that the world is filled with ambiguity not because it's obvious... but it's the only thing left that's real. How you fall out of love with someone you felt so strongly for before is really a mystery. Perhaps I've changed, perhaps he's changed. In that sense, I guess love becomes lost and you don't know when you can really love again and believe that it really is love. Heart ache and heart break makes you stubborn. I don't know what's real anymore. Time will pass and I'll know again. Hopefully. We still love each other but we're no longer in love. I find that concept absurd but I guess sometimes nothing really has to make sense; it'll play out.

I've recently been in touch with my past... I guess because it's the only thing I have left that I'm sure of. Next month I'm embarking on a road trip to San Francisco with a bunch of old friends. Ok, so only two not a bunch. I'll be in the car for about 8 hours with an old best friend who I thought I'd lost forever and another great friend's ex-boyfriend. Quite the odd team isn't it? We're all going to see someone who has changed our lives in some way. Erk, that's what I call her. She's wonderful, I can't wait to see her again.

Anyway, I'm only his friend now. I like to believe that I'm his one and only true friend I guess because in some way that still makes me feel significant in his life... almost like the closeness of a lover, but not quite. Hey, but I guess that's alright. I do find solace in being there for him. Currently, he is not himself... just like I was not too long ago. I think I'm learning to overcome. I think I'm learning to forget the ugliness that has happened between us and forgive all the memories that made us special just for that brief moment in life. We did love each other once. The kind of love that you can't live without. We still have love for one another, but I don't know if he can't live without it. Life is tragic, and then you meet someone else... and your wound heals but then you get another. Somewhere down the line you'll stop getting wounds either maybe because you've gotten immune to the pain that you no longer notice or you finally just find that "eternity" that everyone searches for.

I guess I'm human...

I still love him after all... and it doesn't matter what he feels about me.

what style is to jenny

i feel my sense of style fading. it's sad, it's disgusting. i roll out of bed and wear some hideous, half-assed, slap-together outfit... by no means do i even like it; i just wear it not to be naked. shirt and pants/shorts.

i don't care what kurt vonnegut says; i like semi-colons.


p.s. read Armageddon by Kurt Vonnegut. it's a great read. he talks about his hate for semi-colons in it. i have to say, i was a little heart-broken. i think mr. vonnegut had a little bit of a fall-out there. well, for a brief second.


aside from that... why don't people blog anymore? is it so uncool? has it become passe and "desperate"; (sorry mr. vonnegut) a desperate cry for an ounce of "coolness" or "distinction"?


i think sometimes people waste too much of their lives hating on things or criticizing things. i admit, i part-take in such... i love to make fun of people who listen to "unlistenable" music like... well pretty much any song featured on total request live. is that show even on anymore? anyway, i love to make fun of people who think forever21 summer dresses are chic *ahem ms. universe 200something from japan. i love to make fun of people who think they're so fabulous. i love to make fun of people who are by nature "stupid". i love to make fun of people who think they know what style is or that they even have it. see? i'm a hater. just like everyone else. i can't blame the rest of the world at all. in all honesty, it's fun. no, it's refreshing; it makes us who we are/who we are not.

sure, it's a very refutable sentence. one can simply say that hating or making fun of people lacks substance, that it falls short of being twisted to fit anything even slightly profound. oh, well.

"I was born but..."

When I was younger I was filled with silly thoughts and understanding of true romance. My head was wrapped around in dreams, grandeur, and varied versions of the moment when I would finally meet my equal. At this moment I can say either that I have been delusional or that all along I have held a perfect understanding of realism. There is a great amount of truth that resides in the observation that people seek to fall in love with someone who embodies either what/who they are or something they are missing/want to be; their equal. I believe it. Then again, if you're as lucky as me... there is absolutely no truth to this. Your interest is merely sparked by the quick first impression of what your potential soul mate dawns on you... and then the world unleashes its best kept secret upon you; you are indeed with someone who has surpassed all expectations. You are with the most incredible human being. Surprise.
It doesn't make any sense. Really, is there a catch? Sure, there is the possibility of a shattered, beat-down, broken heart. But it's a rather small price... or actually it's just a rather insignificant matter. Just love and be loved.
The 8th day of another month is approaching yet again. It seems longer than just 8 months. Then again, what is the number 8 but an upside-down infinite symbol?
I'm lack any evidence of the human condition; I am neither expressive or emotional. But somehow, right now, I want to tear up and curl into a ball.
I'm in love...
with him
with the infinite spaces between all matter
with love.

A Bland Epiphany

I've come to the realization that what's been missing all these years is a hint of rebelious spontaniety. Ultimately, that's the missing ingredient that's hindered me from achieving feats from all aspects of my life. Yeah, really. An old friend has taught me this. Perhaps what's funny is that I haven't spoken to this person in years. You know when they say everything happens for a reason? I'm beyond glad that we became friends. We're neither friends or foes at this stage of our lives... but she'll always be there in some odd way, pushing me, motivating me, and always provoking me with the loud whispers of "Come on, Jen"... to finally experience the essence of life and living.

I am a pescatarian today, tomorrow I shall purely be a vegetarian.
I am a procrastinator today, tomorrow I shall be an all-nighter master.
I am jobless today, tomorrow I shall be successful.
I am hesitant today, tomorrow I shall be unstoppable.

Life as a Neglegent Blogger

So it's been a while since I've updated this blog with any serious intent. Yes, I start off entries with "so" too often.

It's 12:55 AM. I am on a quest to stay till 7AM this morning. I plan to battle the inevitable curse of slumber by watching old Sailor Moon episodes.

Nostalgia. More specifically, childhood nostalgia. I sometimes wish that there was a store that simply caters to all of my childhood nostalgia needs. It would be great to be able to buy old Daria episodes, Sailor Moon pens and bubble necklaces, and Barney blankets. Anyway, that's just what midnight boredom and lack of routine productivity does to anyone with a sane mind.

Also, what I've noticed about blogs is that readers only read matters that are generalized. Of course everyone floods in when you bitch about a recent break up and pour your heart out with the use of pseudo-insightful anecdotes. Also, the seemingly endless longing for a Romeo to sweep you off your feet is never out of style either. Yeah, that kind of stuff is a great seller. Who doesn't like hearing about angst?

Well, what I'm getting at is that I'm tired of angst. Let's talk about real stuff. For once. Happiness, what's wrong with it? Bliss? Isn't one allowed to be selfish for once and brag about how great their life is without sounding fake and making things up? Yes, things are great on my side of the fence right now; I have the white picket fence and everything. At least in my mind. Yes, that's a metaphor.

Anyway, summer's been fantastic thus far. Aside from me gaining weight; I can feel my face turning into a donut as I ponder this thought. And oh god, I hate donuts. My fat face could at least turn into cheese. I love cheese. Cheese melts, which gives me the false hope that the fat on my face will as well.

Also, here are a few things that I've decided to add to my summer list:
-Have as much boba as possible.
-Be a movie-rat... watch all the great movies coming out this summer.
-SHOP, I know redundant, but I LOVE SHOPPING 0_0 omg it's 1AM why are the stores closed???
-Sculpt cheese
-Successfully complete the Special K diet

Summer List... for the summer.

-take the broken yolk challenge
-water gun fight at the beach
-lose weight
-read The Arabian Nights
-get a make over
-get more clothes
-get a job
-get driver's license (!!!!!!)
-spend everyday w/ alex
-hang out with friends as much as possible
-make a purse/tote
-have an adventure
-blog more
-buy more american apparel
-thrift shop!
-make a youtube video
-go on a real photo safari
-scrapbook more!


...err to be continued!

Nothing Blatantly Interesting

It's Thursday, 2:03 PM. I'm in the process of writing a 10 page paper due tomorrow at 3PM. I'm currently on the sixth page which literally translates to about 3-5 since I have notes and other crap on there. Everyone else is done with finals or at least don't have to deal with this paper-writing bullshit. Yeah, I'm angry. There, I just let out a bad word. Yeah, I'm also pathetic...


i wish i had a camera... the moving kind. so i can film myself and catch all the interesting footage such as me crying a little over frustration... you would too if you had to write a 10 page paper and study while everyone else around you celebrates and moves their shit out! ggrrrrrrrr

Pathetic, the path of this day.

A second attempt at xanga... www.xanga.com/jennyjunebug
Yeah, I doubt it'll get much update. I say this with utter confidence since I've never been one to have the keen ability to chronicle my less than average days. By average of course I mean "exciting". I think they key there though is that I can never be that publicly "honest" about my life.


I woke up this morning. It was 9:49 am. Just in time to get ready for my 11:00 am Intro to Asian Art discussion. I got up and went to the bathroom where I spent a good twenty minutes just sitting on the toilet... reflecting. Finally, I washed my face and brushed my teeth. Truly exciting stuff; I did my newfound brushing technique... You know, the circular stroke type. 10:25, left the bathroom. I changed. Not quite the outfit I would really approve of... but it's college and well academia can care less about your fashion sense. I think I've even sort of developed this theory that the crappier you dress, the better you're bound to do in college. Next week, I plan to wear sweats and sweats only. If you see me around campus wearing anything remotely what might be considered an upgrade from such a get-up, please, please, feel free to stop me and point out that I will fail in life... Thanks.
So 12:45, class finally ends. I rush to the shuttle stop seeing that mother nature was about to lash out and pour some rain on my beloved laptop that I was carrying with me. Well, actually luck was on my side though... I got to the shuttle stop and exactly then the shuttle arrives. I get on it. It was nice. As the shuttle made the turn from York Hall to the Muir College area, "Kiss Me" by sixpencenonethericherextremelylongtitle began to play. And right at this exact moment I happened to be staring out the window. It felt like the quintessential scene from a short film IFC would be proud to showcase on one of their festivals. The Toronto one maybe?
So I get off the shuttle and walk back to my little cubicle (dorm). I immediately felt the need to plug in my laptop and open the iTunes... it was on shuffle of course. The first song that played was "No Lies, Just Love" by Bright Eyes. Already, I can tell this was going to be a pathetic day. So here I am, sitting in front of my computer blogging, ditching class, drinking chamomile tea... just as I had predicted.

Amputations of Thought

I am stuck at the limitations of limited thought.

Every potential idea is blocked by an over-analytical mind that ceases to be anything but critical; in short it is writer's block.

I met a Kelvin tonight. No, there was no interaction between temperature and I. It was simply a boy named Kelvin. An interesting figure. He wears green, sporting that sort of flippy hair that would make slutty girls at my old high school swoon. Except, no I don't think he has a studly bone in his body. He is simply like me. I am intriguing... that is our power. At least I would think. He's an interesting sort. Why? I don't know what his appeal is, but I would like to be his friend. And no, I don't mean the perpetual hipster I would end up talking to online on occasion about "cool happenings" and odd blogs and nerdy talk being the subject matter. No, I'd love to be his friend.

Genetic Disability

Interesting session today in my "Disability in Film" seminar. We discussed the complexities of disabilities; where political correctness and blatantly wrong labels meet in a spectrum of an overall losing battle. It seems that no matter what, words seem to fall short of ever satisfying a feeling, an emotion, even a description. It makes me somewhat disappointed, somehow I've now developed this defeatist attitude towards the power of words. How much power could it really hold? After all, it's always going to fall short, no matter what. Of course, I guess this is somewhat of a pessimistic perception because really perfection is neither attainable or desirable. Well, at least it shouldn't be desirable.
It's like the relationship between the potentially invincible perfection of genetics and the non-duplicable trait of what it means to be human. I think that perfection is neither attainable nor should it be ever desirable for the fact that life revolves around the power of genetics and the miracle of being "human". For example, the "heart"; we can mean heart as in the bleeding, beating organ or the more existential kind dealing with matters of courage and faith and the ability to love; to be human. Then again, the definition of either one by itself is nothing without the other. You can't live without an instrumental heart and you can't truly live without the other because then really what are you living for? Courage and the ability to be "attached" is what drives human existence after all... It's what inevitably what makes anyone want to live a life.

... Hmmm I think I'll nap on this thought for now.

Blogs are not stupid.

I would like to apologize to... myself. Blogs are in no way stupid. It was said in a frenzy of anger and ambiguous state of mind. Indeed, I love blogs. It's a refreshing form of literature. Yeah, sure calling it literature may be a stretch but come on how do they publish those sappy romance novels with Fabio on the cover in the first place? I strongly think my blogs compiled into one volume is a far more exciting/interesting/enriching read.


Good day =)

The Morning is Bright

Just when you're having a good day, think you're about to have a good one... the juxtaposition of bright sunshine and mother-of-god you're fucking up my mood moments arise. What can you do? You can be a fuck face about things and well continue to be bitter (exactly what I plan to do right now because I think I reserve the right to), or you can be a pansy and let life/the people in it fuck you in the ass willingly. Yeah, I mean that metaphorically speaking. Not that there's nothing wrong with butt sex; some people are into it. All I'm saying is that it hurts, that's really the comparison I'm trying to arrive at. Sure, a rather gross one... but can you really think of a more palpable example? If there's anything I can compare th pain I'm feeling right now to something physical that one would even begin to under stand... it's butt penetration ok? Just watch an episode of Oz on HBO. I'm not sure if it's canceled yet but that show will give you a great effing idea of how this day has been going.

Selfish... yeah, what exactly is in that word? Self. Right. "ish"... so no not really, technically even that word alone does not give someone license to be totally and completely full of themselves. Key element here is "ish"... not fully. I hate selfish people. Just commit, call yourself "full of it"/"full of yourself". Don't allow yourself to be called selfish. It's just not right. It's like concentrate juice as opposed to the fresh squeezed.


Blogs are stupid.

Scramble

surreal

surr=blurr--> sub-real

real--> reel--> movie reel

real--> reality

real life? or reel life?

Independently Dependent

I was doing so well just now; actually reading for MMW and LTWL... not due till Wednesday of course, even better. It's only Monday.

... and then I was disturbed by a thought, a feeling, a mere sudden jolt of emotional realization.

In theory I would consider myself an emotionally independent person. At least I was before, at the moment it doesn't feel so. I'm alone in my room right now, a room which I have to share with two other people. Kind of a first, kind of nice. Then again, I find myself being a bit of a recluse for not socializing outside. But honestly, as honest as I can ever put it... I don't care much to interact any longer. There are people you "know" you're going to spend the rest of your life with. Your true love, your best friends, recurring acquaintances, your parents... yeah. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I don't feel putting any more effort than I have to... or than I "want" to in things that I don't find worthwhile. Among them would be vapid interactions that mean no more than superficial exchanges of "oh-yeah-how-cute-i-know-rights" and overall meaningless sharing of existence. A little harsh? Sure. Why bother with formalities here though? There's nothing nice about the situation in particular; there's nothing kind about the truth. There's also nothing brutal about it, it is what it is. I no longer feel that I have to try and interact with the people I live closely around any longer. Primarily for the reason that this person has in some unspoken method has chosen to drift away from me. The reason? I don't really know. Let's be blunt here, I harness no unattractive qualities when it comes to common mannerisms, consideration, and kindness. Then again, all of that is relative I suppose when assumptions become the basis of one's perception. Another thing is the hint of the "superiority factor". All in all it's just annoying. People should get over themselves. Sigh. Another excuse for me to become noncholant and well... a bitch. Sometimes it's just asked of me.

Well, I went on a tangent there...

I find myself becoming more and more emotionally dependent lately. At times I find myself just accepting it; I'm human after all. At other times I find myself worrying... in ultimate truth you and I, he and she are alone. Hmmm I don't like it.

Reluctant Hello(s)

I hate reluctant "hello"(s); they're awkward. I just experienced one today. Of course, I waved and said hi back... I just hope there was no one behind me. Actually, that brings me a "sort of" point. Why exactly are people reluctant to say hi to someone they've just met the day before or someone they see regularly in class? I don't know. Sure, they don't want to feel rejected because there's always that possibility that hangs when the recepient of your kind hello decides to be an asshole and pretends not to notice or awkwardly says hi back either because they think they're too cool for you or they're just dumb. Well, no let's be honest here... no one wants to feel stupid. Yes, I just felt stupid. It's been about 30 minutes ago exactly I believe. I walked into Cafe Ventanas for a drink. Simply just a drink. Of course, me being me, it's never just that. It can never just be about getting "just" a drink. I always have to run in to an awkward acquaintance, some socially awkward person that I've vaguely made friends with, someone too shy to say hi for me (therefore instigating an awkward exchange of hello's), etc. Seriously, there's nothing wrong with this, there's nothing absurd or special about this; it happens to everyone routinely. I'm sure of it. The only thing is... I guess I give off this false sense of confidence to others... it's an especially popular thought shared among kids I've met in one of those "hipster" classes like "History of Film" for example where our first conversation was sparked, usually, by an obscure band or indie film... anyway, back on point. I give off this false sense of confidence to others that somehow radiates, "Hey, I spoke to you, however I'm too cool for you; therefore only greet me with awkward hello's whenever I see you out in public". Yeah, terrif. Sometimes I wish that I didn't come off as cold, snobby, or whatever it is. I hate life. I realize that this blog sounds a lot like me selling myself with hyperbolic anecdotes; well, let's be honest here... I sound full of myself. So full, in fact so full that it's obese. I just felt like making it known that yes, I'm human too. I deserve warm hello's, not awkward ones. Yeah, it's also a really sloppy blog, poor on the grammar end, sucks on structure, definitely lacking on both diction and syntax... perhaps lacking a little on direction?

On another note I guess, I just feel like sharing my class schedule for Spring Quarter. Just because it's fabulous. No, because it took me 3 hours to figure out. haha
Well here it is:

Monday:
-LTFR2A (Intermediate French Lit) 10AM-10:50AM
-LTWL19C (Literatures of the World, Greek and Roman Myth) 2PM-2:50PM
-MMW3 (Making of the Modern World, Medieval Ages) 3PM-3:50PM

Tuesday:
-LTFR2A Section 10AM-10:50AM
-LTEU110(European Romanticism) 12:30PM-1:50PM

Wednesday:
-same as monday
-plus MMW3 Discussion 4PM-4:50PM

Thursday:
-LTEU110

Friday:
-exactly the same as Wednesday

Printemps

bonafide hustler, making my name.

... ah, i love M.I.A.

The view from the balcony is quite reminescent of Hemingway sitting on wicker chair outside some exotic locale of his... writing about bittersweet romances; too much like his life. I love the contrast. In short, the day is nice; I'm stuck inside pondering when I should begin to study. Oh, I love the contrast of dull and understated excitement that is nature. I also love Lou Reed and his crap ass music; a hybrid of pseudo-talent and drug-infused vision. No, I'm not on drugs. I detest any sort of narcotic. On a side note, I miss wearing my beret... would it be silly to wear one in spring? Perhaps I should have bought a yellow one. When I think spring, I think yellow and daisies and chocolate eggs and easter bunnies.

I haven't posted an "insightful" blog for some time now... as insightful as a blog can be. However, I do look forward to posting another blog about rolling backpacks and absurd characters. Yes, watch out for that.

Alas I shall leave you with this message... take it easy, it's not the end of the world; some guy during a Bio midterm had a seizure. Chill.

Golly, Gloomy Day.

I am here. I swear, I still exist... as I know that you both do as well. I miss you guys.

It's midterm season again... -__-

I'm really sad about the ceasing of polaroid production.
I passed by that Pinkberry-like place Pure recently. Interesting. There's also Fruberry in Downtown, similar. It was ok I think.


Vlad, I passed by the Invisible Children booth today at Library Walk and they were selling hats with the design you had on the shirt you made to raise money. I wanted to buy one, but I was broke and what's more... I was starving. I felt like a true broke college student right then and there. haha

Elma, where are you? 0_0 hahaha

Checklist, a continuation.

In response to your theory of checklist existing as guideline for human or personal progression...

Well, it's all subjective. In the end everything exists on a subjective level. Why do we bother to follow laws? No, the better question to raise would be, "why do we bother to follow laws which are subjective and made by human thought, which also rely on the theory of subjectivity?" Fuck, whatever. The only purpose of this example is that I perceive a checklist being similar to laws. Checklists are simply guidelines, guidelines which essentially translate to what we define as "laws". Sure, I guess you could say it exists for the sake of human or personal progression. Why bother striving for progress in the first place? Is it simply human nature? That's easy to argue. It's harder to justify however, because hey... who can justify what human nature actually is? Actually, who can justify anything? It's all subjective. Can justification even exist under the reign of subjectivity? Where am I getting at? I feel crazy. I forget sometimes.
Are you a "subjective interpreter of objective truths"?
Maybe humanity's impulse to have any sort of checklist for anything at all is that underlying fear of death. Having a "checklist" gives one something to fight for, something to live for... and by striving to accomplish anything on this checklist only makes that "something" truly ours. Therefore, the fear of death is really the fear of losing subjectivity and vice versa. It is not life that we fight for... We are subjective beings. ie: "This chair exists because I exist". We live/fight for subjectivity because we want to prove ourselves real, our existence real, we exist. Then there is death... deep down, whether we know it yet or not... our existence becomes something else when we die... we become objective. And hey, that's the point; we don't want that.
I think objectifying oneself solidifies our own subjective truths. That is my interpretation (rather dare I say purpose?) of having a checklist at all.

Checklist

Life surprises you sometimes. People always have pre-set ideas or pre-set whatevers. Radio stations, goals, beliefs, judgements, standards, really... pre-set whatevers. Then it happens, one of those things on your pre-sets takes place unexpectedly and... I don't know. What should you be feeling at that point? Who knows, no one's ever told you. Just say "check" I guess and go about life like that idea still exists as unaccomplished.

Momentum

SIGH

Writer's block. To the extreme.

I haven't been able to write much lately. Just the other day, it took me 12 hours to compose a 4 page paper. I suppose it was because I had too much to say about the topic at hand; overwhelmed much? Yeah, that was the feeling.

Anyway, today I am forcing myself. I've always been so against forced, puked-out writing... but I have no choice. I feel like a little piece of myself is somehow disappearing, fading away, melting like ice that's never to become solid in the same way again.

So here's what I have to say...

I listened to this song today, and I've listened to many songs, and it changed my life. Maybe not my life, I always seem to end up saying that when something great comes along. But yeah, anything that has the ability to strike an eerie feeling inside me... or any sign of emotion at all is a good one. Whatever good maybe... but I'll get to my perception of that later. Anyway, rather than ranting about it... I think if you're reading this post, you should give it a listen and form any inhibitions for yourself.

http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=308316023

Binary Opposition. I finally found out the proper title for my perception of the world. I hate titles. I guess my perception of the world is slightly shattered now. I despise humanity for having to put titles on everything... then again, it just loops back to how I see the world.
Contrast, without contrast nothing would be in existence. What if the whole world was dubbed as "white". Just white. What would everything else be referred to? White. So what's the point? There would be no sense of communication, no such thing as the concept of "different", no sense of identity, just a false existence surrounded by dullness and lack of everything else aside from this idea of "white". Try imagining the world without contrast... you can't. I know you'd be lying if you said "Oh, yeah. It's possible. I see it in my head as I speak." To think at all requires some sort of contrast. Think right now, how do you know you "are" thinking... you'd have to know the meaning of what not thinking is... and how else would you know this? Contrast. There are only two things that can exist at this point, if you've gotten this far. You're either thinking or you're not. To know at all requires some sort of contrast. You can you say that you are indeed thinking because you know that you are not not thinking. Hmmm a bit of a confusion. Anyway, let's leave it at that.

So tonight I defended American Apparel against a very mislead individual, apparently lost and on the beaten path... Let's not mention names here, I live with this person.

What's so great about American Apparel? Yeah, it's over-priced basics that come in a plathora of shades. From dull grays to adventurous neons... Anywho, let me avoid going crazy expressing my love for American Apparel. The truth is, it's simple. It's not just the same basics you can get anywhere else, it's an overwhelming amount of cuts, variety, style... which force you to find your own niche. It's a blank canvas that enables the most bland individual to spark a newfound creativity within themselves. Fashion versus style. What is it? I see fashion as a constrained, controlled, diluted version of personal style. Style exists in all of us. That's the beauty of it. What's a couture gown without presentation? Minus the hair, the make-up, what is left? An extravagant creation. What's a simple American Apparel dress without presentation? A blank canvas. I think that's what I like so much about American Apparel... it strips down the superficiality that accompanies the world of fashion. Fashion is either in or out. Style isn't. It's always there. Permanent and true, just like the simplicity of American Apparel... the simplicity of being simple, being "you". So dare you ask again? I'd indulge over and over again to invest in expressing myself. I know, a bit set on stone... conflicting with the rules of style, but then again there are no rules...

Like I Said, Enough Said.

I...

"Always do what you are afraid to do."

I woke up early today. It was the most dreadful thing I've had to do in a while, no time wasn't the issue. Fear more like. I had this agenda to speak with my somewhat estranged aunt today about a very important matter. Seriously, I avoided this for about an hour. I ridiculously held on to the phone and stared at it looking defeated. I couldn't do it, I just couldn't. I thought I knew her answer already, I thought she'd be the big B that she was... but somewhere in there like the Grinch who stole Christmas, I guess she had a heart.


... hmm, I guess somebody knew what they were talking about.




Thanks Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Peace is Expensive

... and humanity is cheap.

we sure are cute for two ugly people...

... I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else,

but you...

Comfortable Silence; ""... i can't be myself, i can't be myself and i don't wanna talk"

... awkward silences define my life.

So two people in a room, exactly alike, face each other... what you usually get is silence. Is this right? I like to think so. The two of them should just nod their head as a sign of agreement and that should be enough. Isn't that the best sort of conversation? The ones we never really had? The ones we imagine in our heads to have occured but hasn't really happened? Yeah, those are the most powerful.

Silence lingers in the air, unsaid thoughts intertwine one another, colliding without a sound... you smile, she smiles, I smile. Audible words are seemingly difficult to find.

You can't truly confirm that you "know" a person unless you've shared an awkward silence together and found it refreshing. I find every awkward silence refreshing, it's not at all awkward. It solidifies my belief in everything happening for a reason.

Conundrum.

Damn, Elliot Smith's "Needle in the Hay" just came on. Damn good song.
It would make the best soundtrack to an awkward silence.
Next time I'll have this playing in the background when we have another silent conversation.