Passion

I want to be passionate about something instead of being passionate against many things.

Predetermination

I understand.  I have stopped criticizing myself for things, for the way I live my life.  I understand now.

Every moment is the result of every preceding moment.  We do not really have any decisions, any choices.  What will happen, will happen.  Every moment is predetermined.  It is the sum of all the preceding moments.  There is only one thing that I could be doing right now, and it is what I am doing, sitting in the McGill library typing a philosophical journal entry.  It is ingrained in my DNA, in my environment.  We can’t hold things against others, because what happens just happens.  We can't hold things against ourselves, because what happens just happens.

I have to accept the mistakes that I will make tomorrow, because they are inevitable.  They will lead to successes farther on down the line and more mistakes.  I will become the person I will become, and there is nothing I can do about it.  If I work harder, which I will, it will be the result of all of these moments.

Ha maybe I’ll be a Calvinist someday.

Now is the Past

and suddenly she was terrified of life again.

she mourned the past
the future,
that will be the past
so soon
tomorrow
today
this second

those people
whom she worked to grow with
to develop
will be irrelevant
forgotten

except for facebook
and it is there
only to remind her
so she can find them
stalk them
if she wants
if she thinks that it will make her feel better
to be reminded of their name.


i don't pretend to be a writer.

Where are the ships?

Such a good talker, an enthusiastic projector, beaming out. Three days a week, without fail. Her short hipster hair bounces with all her shits and giggles. Those around her are inspired. They attempt to beam back with such strength, but they are out-shined. She is a lighthouse: flash, flash, only emitting. We are all lighthouses. We flash and flash, trying to call out, only showing, never knowing, never trying to find out. The most beautiful lighthouses are those who shine brightest. A lighthouse shines and shines and never sees. We are those who talk and never listen. We all want to be Cape Hatteras, shiny, tall, and striped. We want the world to know our light. But if we are all lighthouses, where are the ships?

I don't pretend to be a writer.

The Unbearable Lightness of Being

I can still hear my bones straining under the weight of all of the lives I am not living.  They are screaming.  They keep me up at night,

Blondegirl,

Sitting two spaces away.  You are not real.  You are not a humanbeing.

You are a painting, a mediocre painting.

Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous?

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light not our darkness that most frightens us.
We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous,
talented and fabulous?

Actually, who are you not to be?

....


It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone.
And as we let our own light shine,
we unconsciously give other people
permission to do the same.

As we are liberated from our own fear,
Our presence automatically liberates others.

I can do this.

"I CAN DO THIS!" she wanted to shout.  She wanted to shout to the world.  She wanted everyone to know.  She wanted someone to know about this epiphany that had struck her across the face.  She wanted them to know.  She wanted them to rejoice with her.

But she was in a library and didn't think that shouting would be a good idea.

If only everyone listened to Cat Stevens.

If you want to sing out, sing out.
If you want to be free, be free.
Cause there are a million ways to be
You know that there are.

Yes you know that there are.

Sadly, if you sing out, you get some pretty annoyed looks.

Helsinki

I want to go.

I figured it out

I'm like a varsity athlete that never found the right sport.

Hurt

You can have it all,
my empire of dirt,
but I will let you down.

I will make you hurt.

Love me, because love doesn't exist, and I have tried everything that does.

Sometimes I can hear my bones straining under the weight of all of the lives I am not living.
-Jonathan Safran Foer

Mr. Foer is one of my new favorite people. I have read Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close and am almost through with Everything is Illuminated. His novels are like nothing I have ever read before. Each novel is closer to an art experiment than anything that resembles literature. His novels are sad, humorous, and incredibly profound. He most reminds me of Dave Eggers' Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius. Both books center around love but not the normal Nora Roberts love. No, something much more deep than that. They even ask whether love really exists and about its nature. I have thoroughly enjoyed his books. He needs to write another one!

Graduation

I am so scared. I didn't think I would be. I wasn't until yesterday or so. Tomorrow really begins the rest of my life. I will be an adult. I will never again live in my parents' house for an extended period of time. My group of friends.. Well, it will be gone in a year or two. There are people whom I have seen frequently for 18 years whom I will never see again. That is scary. So scary.

We as humans long for predictability and consistency. Consistency can be depressing but it is also comfortable. We long to know what lies around the corner.

Well right now, I don't know. I just don't know. I'm glad to be at this transition. And I'm glad that I have chosen to make this a drastic transition. I know that someday I will be a better woman for it. I am so excited about my life. I know that it will never be boring or unexciting. I like the person I am becoming. But life is just going to keep going. No matter what I do, its going to keep going. Not fast or slow. Just the way it is. It's scary.

Muss es sein? Es muss sein. Es muss sein.

A person who longs to leave the place where he lives is an unhappy person.

Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being

The Blurred Line Between a Dream and Reality

The insomnia came back. Last night, I lay. I stroked the cat. Moved the pillow. Did math with the numbers on my alarm clock. I thought. I worried. I stressed. Then I drifted off.

Earlier yesterday I had a fight. I guess I kept those feelings bottled up. I guess they were worse than I originally thought. The same event occurred in my dream, except it was more extreme. I woke up wondering what had actually happened. I wondered if I had actually cursed him out or not. I was so confused. I am still not sure what happened yesterday and what happened in some alternate universe contained within my brain.

I woke up at five, unable to fall back asleep. So I went on hulu and became addicted to steep and cheap.

Then I went to school, where I continued to worry. I avoided several people. I gave up. Long ago.

Everyone I know is either frustrated by, disappointed in, annoyed with, tired of, or indifferent to me. I just need to finish. That is all I need to do. Will I continue to let people down? Yes. I just can't do it anymore. I can't please everyone, so I have decided to not please anyone.

I said the other day that I was disillusioned. I guess that is the right way to say it.

Oh and I have a fever again. Off and on for multiple months. I don't know what is going on.

Disappointment

Today I was once again disappointed by humanity. I needed shoes for prom, so I headed over to the mall. I have an interesting relationship with shopping. Part of me loves it. And part of me despises it. Well first off, I hate clothing. If it were up to me, we would all walk around naked. I think we would all be so much more comfortable around eachother. After all, we all know what is under there. Maybe if the obsession with sex were toned down just a bit, superficiality would go with it. We all act like we are so unique and so important. If we all walked around nude, some of that uniqueness would be gone. We would be more like animals.

I don't like clothing because of its role in society. It is so nonsensical yet so ingrained in all of our minds. It's ridiculous. A man is supposed to wear a tie. This color goes with that color. You wear dark colors in the winter. Etc. There is not one logical reason that goes with those ideas, yet they are accepted. Any people who do not follow the rules are thought to be idiots. A tie is a waste of atoms, in my opinion.

I hate that people judge others by their appearance. 1. You can't control your genes. 2. I think that anyone who wastes their life just buying clothing is a fool. Yet that person would be respected by most people.

Anyway, back to my story:

I went in so many stores and tried on shoes. I had no idea that my feet were considered gigantic, but 10s/11s are I guess. Everywhere I went the salespeople sort of chuckled when I told them my size. Anyway, I started to get desperate. Dillards was my last option, so I decided I would have to buy some shoes there, whether I loved them or not.

A woman approached me, asking if I needed help. Let's call her woman A. I said sure and handed her two shoes that I wanted to try on. She got them from the back and all was well. Neither of them worked, so I starting looking for other options. Maybe four different people asked if I had been helped. I found some other pairs to try and went to stand next to the door where the person who had been helping me had gone. Another woman came out and asked if I needed help. Let's call her woman B. I said that someone had been helping me, but I wasn't sure where she had gone. Woman B went to get the shoes for me.

I stayed where I was, and the woman A came back out, wanting to know if I wanted to buy the shoes. I said that woman B had went to get the other shoes for me. She freaked out and started asking me "What woman???" Woman B came out with a pair of shoes, and woman A started verbally attacking her. I didn't realize that they worked so heavily on commissions. Woman A turned out to be quite a selfish jerk. She acted like woman B had been stealing her customer, when she hadn't. She had hesitated to help me.

Don't these people know that the customer is always right? That it is more important for everyone to be friendly than for one person to get the commission.

I swear, every time I start to like people, they completely disappoint me. Human nature is so foolish and selfish. It drives me crazy.


Oh, and I didn't buy the shoes. So ha on you woman A.

In with the new.

After about 7 months, I think I might have finally snapped out of it, that rut in which I have been. Today felt good. Well, pretty good. I felt proud of myself and of my capabilities. Was I still a bit off? Yeah, but that's ok.

However, I never cease to be disappointed by how boring most people are. CAN ANYONE HEAR ME OUT THERE? DOES ANYONE CARE? CAN ANYONE DO SOMETHING JUST FOR THE FUN OF IT? CAN ANYONE COME ON AN ADVENTURE WITH ME? CAN ANYONE SEE SOMETHING NEW WITH ME?

out with the old. in with the new.

What am I capable of?

Today was a miserable day. There just isn't another word to describe it. I had been dreading it for weeks. I could have made it better, but I did not. I chose to make it worse.

Last night I stayed up late doing absolutely nothing. I was exhausted. I did not go to bed, because I knew that I still had a fair amount of work to do. I thought that I would eventually do it. But instead, I just went to bed without writing my paper that was due a week ago, yes a week ago. I did not read Russell's "Why I am Not a Christian" for English. This is particularly significant because I have wanted to read that essay for a while. I go out of my way to read atheist propaganda.

When I woke up this morning, I seriously considered skipping. I did not. I went to school, and the whole day was hectic because I had not done my homework the night before. During chemistry, I put Russell's essay in my book and read it. I also did a t-test for statistics. I had a meeting and then had statistics class. Right before statistics class I slipped into the physics lab and printed an article about Eva Parón, the person I had to write a paper about. I spent statistics class and calculus class skimming the article and handwriting a paper. I snuck out of calculus early and slipped into the computer lab. I typed the 4oo word paper up and printed it, in time to turn it in the next period. I then had a Spanish test that I had not studied for at all. By this time I was shaking because I had just put so much effort into writing and then typing an entire paper while being in class. My Spanish teacher noticed that something was off. She kept looking at me during the class. I got out of that class as soon as I could.

Then it was lunch time. I planned to run home and get pictures that I needed for Web Design class. When I got home, I could tell that someone else was home, so I snuck back out before they saw me and ran to Subway. I then sped back to school in time for English class. I had a quiz, and then my teacher addressed me in front of the class and asked me if I was ok. I said yes. What else could I have said? I think my Spanish teacher must have said something to him. Ugh. I hope that that was the most that could result from my little detour.

After school I came home and tried to figure out what was wrong. I discovered that I had a fever. I have been feeling weird all week. I am not sure why. I do not have a cold or anything like that. But I have been feeling dizzy and faint. I've never actually fainted, so I am not sure how close I have come to fainting. It's weird. I'm actually pretty worried about this.

Then I had 3 and half hours to psyche myself up over my project committee meeting. I have been so nervous about it. I have been avoiding all members of my committee since we last met in November! Seriously, when I see one of them I turn around or hide behind someone else. They said that they liked my paper? How the heck can they like my paper? It is horrible. It doesn't have a point. I obviously don't have a clue what I'm talking about. I wrote all 17 pages over the course of 3 days. I did all the research as I went along. They were talking about publishing it and stuff. WTH?

What is off between me and the world? I cannot decide whether people just feel bad for me and think that I put a lot of effort into it. I did not put any effort whatsoever. If they were giving me a grade for the sheer amount of stress I have given myself over it then I should get an A. But actual effort? A C tops. Do I just have higher standards than other people? Are other people really that stupid? How can their papers be that much worse? Or do they think that because I have never had a B in my life that a C would kill me? I want the grade that I deserve. I have not worked hard at all this year, and I deserve Cs. I don't really care that much though.

Back to my paper. I wrote it in 3 days, albeit 3 very stressful days that made me want to kill myself. I did not read through it before sending it. I did not correct anything. And they thought it was good? What the heck? I thought they were going to tear me apart. I refused to read it until today, because I thought I would be thoroughly embarrassed by it. I don't know. I just don't get it. Sometimes I think that everyone must just be putting me on. What would they think of a paper that I actually put effort into? It's weird.

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My 37 things.

Tomorrow and Today

procrastinate |prəˈkrastəˌnāt; prō-|
verb [ intrans. ]
delay or postpone action; put off doing something : it won't be this price for long, so don't procrastinate.

ORIGIN late 16th cent.: from Latin procrastinat- ‘deferred until tomorrow,’ from the verb procrastinare, from pro- ‘forward’ + crastinus ‘belonging to tomorrow’ (from cras ‘tomorrow’ ).

My exhibition belongs to tomorrow. My excessive useless worrying belongs to today.

Mediocre Writing

Anticipation. Looking up at the screen. When is it going to happen? How long will it be? I am frozen, tightening my scarf around my neck. I am burning in a heated metro station. So many people everywhere, people selling Obama gear, everyone living in anticipation. I am on an Amtrak train toward D.C. I riding Amtrak toward Miami.
Obama’s hand is held high in the air. He is facing a crowd of thousands in Charlotte, in Columbia, in D.C. Bam. He is president.
Long before you notice it.
It’s over.
The moment is gone. Today might as well be tomorrow. Tomorrow might as well be yesterday. Birth might as well be death.
Just yesterday or was it this morning or was it last year? I was crammed into a metro station, hoping to get on the escalator, to escape the sea of heads bobbing. I was eating mediocre tofu in Chinatown, watching towed cars go by.
Just tomorrow I was hoping, wishing that America would listen to me. Or has that already happened? Today it is over. Yesterday it was done.
Do you see? We can never live in the present. By the time we have noticed, the present is the past. Each little action, little thought that I have has already happened. The future is the present. The present is the past. That anticipation is gone. Nothing has changed. Everything has changed. The world changes every minute, yet it stays the same. The inevitable remains inevitable. The insignificant remains insignificant. You can’t win. I can’t win. Try to change anything. It doesn’t matter anyway. Does it matter anyway? Does anything matter anyway? Try to find something that matters. Go. Look.
As I write this, my life ends a minute at a time. I can’t stop it. Can you stop it? Can you slow it down? Woosh. There it goes. Good luck to you, my friend.

Poetry ha ha ha

I am not a poet.
And I know it.


amtrak trains
are planes
skidding
a c r o s s
theground
they have turbulence
and fold down tables
even safety cards.
amtrak trains
are angels with flawed wings
fumbling
sling-shotted across the land.

2008

Goodbye & Good Riddance.