The only reason for time is so that everything doesn't happen at once

October is a funny month. I wonder what happened to September and find myself at the end of October terrified that another year is passing and I cannot recall exactly where the time went. I suppose saying something like "where did the time go" is somewhat redundant in the general sense because it's not going anywhere it hasn't been before. I can't help but feel this overwhelming sense of running out of time. Not my life, or my possibility, but just time wasted and experiences lost in the midst of it. I keep telling myself I'll be more productive and use my time wisely and "starting tomorrow" bla bla bla. 

I guess I will start tomorrow. I have no other option, really. 

I have also decided to stop drinking and smoking. I can't handle it anymore. I was thinking about it and realized that I had drank every day for the last... while. I have been waking up sickly and not being able to leave my bed for the majority of the day, that is, until I go out again. I feel like I have only seen this city at night for the last couple of months and by city i mean the likeness of a bar or bottle. 

I guess in a sense time is running out. It's starting to get cold in New York and any day I could spend enjoying Fall I am sitting in my room. 

This too will change starting tomorrow. 

Maybe Sundays are lonely. 

It's Monday in ten minutes. 

Oh, The People You'll meet.

I spent the weekend in Charlottesville, Virginia with the intent of helping the Obama campaign and hopefully registering people to vote. I would not consider myself to be naive in my knowledge of popular opinion in the greater United States, but I must admit that I was rather shocked at the response we Obamians received at the hands of McCain-Palin supporters. 

This political game is far from over but in its last few minutes.  I must apologize for my sports metaphor. Perhaps it's inspired by the University of Virginia's MASSIVE football game which happened on Saturday in which people gathered in the parking lot, tailgating and conversing about various pressing issues. 

In wandering around passing out Obama stickers and asking people if they were registered to vote, we were greeted with both praise for helping the cause as well as with vomit sounds, shouting and, my personal favorite, "Palin Power!!". 

It would be ignorant to believe that people would say anything but "politics?? on game night??" (which they did), but I suppose I was under the impression that politics was something to be debated and considered from different angles, only to find people supporting ideas which they backed with little to no information. None of these supporters could say why they supported any of the candidates. None of them had any passion beyond superficiality. But it was alright, because the next day we would be going to the streets and hitting neighborhoods with people who would inevitably join our cause. 

Of course the feedback was mixed. But I came to the realization that there is a more important issue at hand. People are, of course, losing homes (though not just because of our economic crisis, we must remember that these losses were occurring prior in certain middle to low income brackets) and fighting wars on the street which are incomparable to the current political game being played. Politicians are still not talking to these people. No one is addressing the conflicts that so many Americans face on a daily basis, whether is be violence, crime, drugs, poverty, homelessness, etc. How can these people be active in an election that speaks a different language? This is not to say that people are unable to be interested, but it is more so a commentary and question about how they are expected to feel a part of a greater goal that does not pertain to majority of their lives. 

All in all, my friend and I were successful in registering people to vote. We also left with an enriching and exciting experience. 

I would call it a success on many levels.

Next stop: Pennsylvania on the weekend before the election. 

Hang on to your hats, folks.

What Do You Mean, Sir?

It's an obvious trend: We do things that we know promote our unhappiness. We refuse to remove ourselves from our self absorbed, unnecessary, privilige driven deteriorative ruts. It isn't enough to know what the problem is and fix it, instead we know what the problem is and put it on the back burner until we are so dysfunctional that it is unbearable and we break down, almost as though we "didn't see it coming" to be sure to not blame oneself for the demise. 

Balance is key and I am forgetting that I have absolutely no ability to balance my life. If I work one day too many my whole life is thrown off path. If I decide to clean I will clean the whole day until I can't find any time for anything else. 

I suppose it's called perfectionism, but if that was so then I would want that level of perfection for every aspect of my life and thus designate enough time for each activity, obligatory or voluntary. These inconsistencies are a constant bother. 

I suppose with my extra time (and by extra time I mean energy that isn't spent on people and things which have no future) I have time to over contemplate these ideas which are inherently arbitrary. 

I started drawing again and find myself really interested in religious art again. I think it's because it deals with an issue which has been done so many times and with such varying levels of expertise, yet the art still evokes such powerful emotional responses regardless of medium, dimensions, perspective or religious affiliation. 

Remember: Don't take things personally. It is what I say it is. 

All the power will shift. 

Not for all the tea in China

I miss you a lot today.

I just do.

Blase

I wonder sometime what would have happened if I had made different choices... if I had adhered to my mantras.
It's all about separating oneself from the "I" and the "Me".
"I'm humiliated"
"I'm hurt"
"I should have known"
"I'm sad"
"I wanted that"
When in actuality, I just need to shut the fuck up.

I salute you, because the next one is going to be tough. I thought I was cynical about all things "warm" before.
ooohwee.


A weight is lifted from our shoulders and placed on to our hearts.

Wallflower

It's been too long.
All apologies to whoever reads me.

It's been a dark couple of months. I have been in transit for as long as I can remember and all I want is a place to rest my head. I want my books in my room and my records playing and my clothes in a closet and not in a pile in the corner.
I need to do laundry.
I need to take a shower.
I need to be happy.
I need to stay busy.
I need to realize I am right.
I need to stop wanting/waiting/expecting.

It's amazing how sometimes, when the sun hits the street in a certain way, and the crowds part, and for one moment you can really feel peacefulness... everything is perfect.
"In that moment, you're infinite"

You allow yourself to be treated in a way that equates what you think you're worth.
I finally realized I was actually worth more.
I feel happy.

You shouldn't feel lonely around another person.

"You're a tall woman, and most can't be as tall" - I think he meant it figuratively speaking... but also literally.

I don't need a song for you to like me a little.

Goodnight Piano

It's like they always say.

I communicated some issues I was having to certain people in my life and an instant change was made.
I need to talk to you.


"This just isn't working out"

And, I am okay with that. I am excited for it. I get to meet "you" and do it all over again. I get to be unsure and unhappy and smiling and excited and dizzy...

You make me dizzy.

OOps

I wish I had never met you.
I wish nothing ever happened.

You told me this would happen and I refused to believe that I wasn't enough.

I am slowly turning into someone I hate and it will become the blind leading the blind.
I can't be like you; hating the prison I am confined to.

And the craziest part is that I was actually okay with it being like that.
I'm like a fucking masochist or something.
We all are, I suppose.
We do it to ourselves.
Your plague is contagious and I can't mistake pain for pleasure anymore.

You're amazing!

I am stuck in this place between being welcoming of responsibility and obligation and then terrifying myself once I have it. I either have too much or not enough to worry about.
I think I need a vacation.

Financial constraints have to be the some of most suffocating barriers to overcome. I feel as though I am entitled to have certain things when in actuality I have done nothing to deserve them. It's a paradox in and of itself because I actually have nothing to complain about.

remember: everywhere you go, it's the same blue sky.
The concept I discovered which taunts me every single day.

I am sick of school.
I am sick of being told what to do and how to do it and why and when and for how long.

I'm in a place where I have once again become dependent on something which is dictating my happiness. I have become weak and pathetic.

What is it that is fulfilling? Do I have any interests, or interesting things to say, or interesting people to say things to?

I cringe thinking about next semester and taking 5 classes 2 days a week in hopes of actually doing well, as opposed to the reality of my inevitable meltdown.
And if you go wrong or change, I'll be done for.

I got 2 kittens a couple of days ago. Just watching them gives me so much happiness.
They rely on me. Are they already an obligation?
(As I wrote that my kitten Books came over and sat on my shoulder, as if to assure me it's not the case)

You need to get out of my head.

Everyone needs to be honest again.

Time Flies

It's been just about a month since my last post. I suppose the delay in updates can be attributed to my overall lack of inspiration in Los Angeles as well as the hectic-ness of packing up my whole life in boxes to ship back to New York.
I am currently in the process of finding a place of my own to live and being a pretty good sport about living out of a suitcase.

The city is humid and mucky and rainy and hot. It's perplexing to me how this city can be so extreme in regards to its weather... although it's pretty extreme in the general sense also.

Aside from being slightly malnourished and rather wilted from the effects of the sweltering heat, I am ecstatic to be back here. It's a bit quieter than I remember but that's most likely because I am either busier or less busy than before... I can't put my finger on which one it is.

I want to thank Acat for asking what the reason for my delay in writing was.
Thank you and there will be more to come.

Food for Thought

I saw a segment about the "Pregnant Man" on the news today and I couldn't help but be somewhat confused. I guess this would be considered "old news" but he is getting ready to give birth so I guess it's rather relevant. 

To anyone who is unfamiliar with this scenario, it goes like this: A woman goes through almost all of the steps of sexual reassignment surgery except for changing her reproductive organs. She/he then meets a woman and they decide to have a child. But, as opposed to biologically female of the two becoming impregnated, the transgendered one of the pair decides to have his wife impregnate him with a syringe of some sort. 

Essentially, he is not a pregnant man, but a woman who claims to not be able to identify with any characteristics of the female sex and/or gender, except for one of the most defining roles a woman is capable of pursuing? It seems rather strange that he doesn't feel "female" enough to go through life resembling a woman but is able to identify to the point that he can carry a child?

It just strikes me as rather odd. He claims that it is a human right to have children and not a biologically female right, but if that was the case, men would be able to have children biologically, just as women do. 

I am not one to argue against gender being a blurry concept up for much interpretation but biology and science are fundamentally concrete and I don't think that can be argued. 

Amoeba Pick-Up Lines

"So, how many crates do you have?"

... apparently if you're in the vinyl section of Amoeba there is like, a slang imperative to striking up a conversation.I guess I understood what he meant; people usually keep their vinyl in crates -----> how many crates are you on = how much vinyl do YOU have. 

Just another really awesome conversation. 

He then asked me who Patsy Cline was.  

I bought some awesome records though:

Elton John!!

Neil Young

Sergio Mendez 

etc..

I now need to either ship or pack all my records to get them to New york. I just have this irrational fear of packing/shipping anything I care about. 95% of the time I am convinced that they're going to be sucked into some black hole. Irrational... 

Why isn't everyone as cool as these people? The tambourine player is balancing on a rail and the men are wearing suits... I miss men in suits. 

Back by Popular Demand

I thought that my hiatus would go unnoticed but apparently that's not the case.

I have been ordered by a friend to post again.

It feels good to be back.

I am listening to an old tape of my late uncle who made some really awesome music. It's really progressive in a really cool way.

Last night I went to a staple in the lame-o Hollywood club scene. I apologize to all parties involved, I was misinformed about a cool band playing there when, in fact, a hipster friend to hollywood's young starlets was spinning. This essentially guaranteed a crowd of really dull hipsters who are only out on Tuesday night to pass the time before the BIG EVENT: Moscow on Wednesday nights.

I found myself so bored that I actually had a 5 minute conversation with some "post-hipster" as he called himself (he does graphic design for TARGET) about how he cuts his tank tops. Thankfully he found some chick wearing a fedora that he was more interested in exchanging air with and left, but not before explaining that one must ALWAYS fold the t-shirt in half before one begins cutting.

The most embarrassing part of the whole night is that we were photographed mid conversation by an aspiring photo-blogger.

Ugh.. evidence.

I have also realized that when someone asks me what kind of music I listen to I can't name a band that has come out in the last 5 years. I am slightly out of the loop and don't know if I am willing to make the effort to get back in.

It just seems like music is in a pretty stagnant spot at the moment... although those Mars Volta enthusiasts would beg to differ.

These kids are kinda cool though.

Hiatus

I'm on a short one. 

I'll be back...

All is to be continued. 

Return to Los Angeles

I'm back. It's 100 degrees outside and I can't be bothered to move too much. The effort is just lacking.

I am slightly loosing my morale for blogging.

I can't explicitly say everything that I want to because of the fact that anyone can read this, and I hate being vague.

I am already slipping back into the mindset that I was in when I first moved to New York. There's just too much water under the bridge. I can only try to be understanding but I have no obligation to anything or anyone. It's as if I am not a real person... I am supposed to just take all of the shit that gets handed to me and still be sympathetic? Anyone else in my position would be just as frustrated as I am, if not more.

I don't want to to fight. I am exhausted.

It's not L.A. that I have a problem with. It's the fact that I have changed so much and everything here stays the same. Not the same in the comfortable, familiar sense... but in the claustrophobic, anxious sense.

It's ok though. It's all perfect. I won't feel like this for much longer.

P.S. I can't help but notice how cheesy L.A. is compared to New York.

Weekend Wars- part deux

Everyone has been asking for blog shout outs... How about you get a shout out when you make an insightful comment about my chicken scratch? (see Aria's comments on past blogs)

This weekend was eventful, to say the least.
Honesty, honestly.

I found myself asking how I arrived at various places and situations throughout the weekend. It seems as though much of it was a dream.

Things were said which I had been waiting to hear.
I acted exactly according to how I was feeling and received amazing results.
Do as I do, I say.


I wish I had something to complain about... some witty commentary about things that annoy me, or terrible, horrible, no good, very bad days. I don't though.
Things are looking up because I said they should.

Possibilities are endless once you acknowledge your obligation to that endlessness. That's the real secret, I think. Don't be afraid of what you won't do in within the endless mass of possibility before you, but how you'll embrace everything that's on it's way to you.

Soldier On.

Nothing in particular

I completely forgot about this mash-up. It's a really good song,

and this video is kind of cool.

Tales from the Library: Hour 7

I walked over to the printer in the library and in one of the printers was a piece of paper that read:

i carry your heart with me ( i carry it in my heart)

i am never without it

I struggled to remember how I knew these words. Somehow I knew the words which followed ...

Then I remembered my love for E.E. Cummings.

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in

my heart)i am never without it(anywhere

i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done

by only me is your doing,my darling)

i fear no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want

no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)

and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

So, thank you to whoever left that little piece of paper in the printer. I have been able to avoid studying Soviet history for an hour or so.

Perfection

My health is on the ups. hooray!

Today was amazing, perfect in every way. 

I can't take myself so seriously and, in turn, I ask all of you to not take me seriously either. Also, don't take yourselves seriously. There is no use in trying to figure out the messiness and imperfections of life. It just is, and we just are and we're able to just 'be' for so long. 

I am in the process of removing my ego from the game. Just do it. 

Things just happen around us and we choose to be affected. I choose not to anymore. 

Everything is perfect. 

It feels ridiculous writing this... I hope I haven't established myself as a self -help/betterment/hippy/cheese queen bloggity blogger. I hope I don't sound trite... even I won't want to read my blog. 

It's just that I haven't had a day this amazing in so long, and nothing remarkable had to happen for it to be so perfect. 

I was in the library for 10 hours today and it was great. 

**Just for the record... I hate hippies**

To my lovely Palmita:

Donde esta hamburguesa?

Forget the Flowers

The law of attraction strikes again. 

I'm already happier though. It's insane how instantaneously that happened. I put my honest feelings out there and I got an immediate response. I finally admitted how I felt to myself and it's going to be alright. 

At the risk of sounding redundant I'll just say that I don't know how we'll be different, or how we'll act. But I will do my best to be honest... for me.

No more preconceived notions. 

No more pretending. 

Honesty. Honesty. 

God, why do I have such a problem with that?

A good friend of mine always says that the universe is perfect and I am perfect in it. It's hard to grasp sometimes, but after the sequence of events I can only adhere to this notion. 

Flummox

Day 5: Still really sick. Sat in the steam room in my building with a tub of vick's vapo-rub... I felt like a frail old lady. I am sort of starting to feel like the worst is over, though, and that I am going to be 100% by thursday. If not, that'll be over a week of being the sickest I've been in years. Think me well... clap (if you believe in fairies) for me, or whatever. 

I felt on the verge of tears all day today- but for no specific reason. I felt really nostalgic. I already miss New York and I haven't even left yet. I miss L.A. but don't want to go. But I don't want to be here. I don't want things to change, I guess. I have this looming issue with change, regardless of how I attempt to be welcoming and understanding of it. I suppose it's rather cliche; I mean, by 'nature' we're averse to change, but I s suppress my fear and allow it to manifest as an intense fear of routine. Text book example...bla bla bla. I'm boring myself, even. 

Also, I came to the realization that I am angry with myself. I allowed something to influence, distract and confuse me for too long, and I am so angry. My psyche, body, grades, and overall contentedness have been affected and now I am paying for it. I can't get back the time that I was in denial and acted foolishly. I need to accept inalienable truths and embrace those "blessings in disguise" that I usually consider bullshit. No one should have such an influence on anyone, regardless of that influence being negative OR positive. I need to stop obsessing and not seeing the "bigger picture". Ugh.. too many quotation marks.

It seems like I'm always squinting... 

I won't misrepresent myself anymore. 

I can't kill myself to be where I was 6 months ago.

I won't always be happy. I wont always be sad. 

 

What changed? How did I go from not caring about what he/she/they thought and being honest to myself to feeling unsure? 

I thought that's what he taught me.  

Things are looking up now- 

If I say they are.

ILL

I was watching television today and came across Varsity Blues. The infamous line "I don't want...your liife!" has resinated since I saw the film in the cinema.

Next : Harold and Kumar. 

Being as sick as I am forces me to turn the television volume up really high in hopes of hearing anything coming out of the speakers. My head feels ten times the size that it actually is and I am having little to no success with breathing. I am winded walking just a few steps and have to force myself to eat anything. I truly regret not taking care of myself ... my body has shut down and what is left is the pathetic pulp of a once well girl. My school work keeps piling higher and higher and at this point, I don't even know if the hours I spend not sleeping in the library are even producing any coherent work. 

I wish I could say that things have improved since last week. I wish I was healthy. The only improvement is that my emotional issues have manifested themselves physically and now I can't think of anything except for how ill I am. I can't do anything... my last couple of weeks in the city and I am a prisoner in my closet of a room and in my own body (i guess?). 

Dramatic. 

Maybe I'm getting what I deserve for being rather reckless in certain aspects of my life recently ... mostly concerning others. 

No cigarettes for 4 days now. I was seriously disturbed when I saw this new anti-smoking commercial showing a woman who had only been smoking for 12 year and she had to have the tops of all of her fingers and toes amputated. Horrific.

Harold and Kumar go to White Castle isn't funny. It wasn't funny when I first saw it, or the second time when I got stoned because everyone said "you have to be stoned... dude it's soooo funny", or now. I kind of like the parts when they make fun of Ivy League schools and the majority of assholes who attend them.

Great dialogue: "lots of ladies waiting to get 'boinked' by us, dude". 

I wish "Can't Hardly Wait" was on...  now that's quality entertainment. 

I have a Jim Jarmusch film waiting for me from Netflix downstairs. That would solve all of my problems (at least for 2 hours or so). If only I could get out of bed. It's so cold. 

I wish that I had 3D glasses so that I could watch "I Love the 80's- 3D". I can't figure out if the show is actually filmed for 3-D but I am willing to find out. 

RDJ

The only thing stopping me from running to Times Square and hurling myself at the tenth story window of TRL in hopes of seeing Robert Downey Jr. is the fact that I think I have mono. 

Ironman. 

That shit is mean. 

Slick

Today was a good day. 

I read an interesting article in the newspaper about how the Tibetan freedom flags are actually manufactured in China. Ironic. Apparently the owners of the factories have no idea what the significance of the emblem on the flag was... 

I also read an article about a 78 year old man in Australia who has just been caught keeping his daughter hostage in his basement since 1980-something, and fathering her 7 children, 4 of which he and his wife (her mother) adopted. 

UNPALATABLE. 

On a totally unrelated and seemingly unimportant side note: slicked back hair is the worst possible hair style ever. Little to no panache. 

Quixotica

I have to compete with Aria now for content, style and accuracy. 

It's o.k. We're a team. 

read her blog (she's much funnier than I am). 

I changed my ticket to go home. I will be back in Los Angeles on the 16th of May at approximately 9:45 AM. I miss the smell of that city. I'll be back in no time. I won't allow this trip to displace me emotionally..I will be present, forgiving, accepting and comfortable. I need to get out of here. 

Don't take anything personally. 

"I won't"

It's been almost a year since I moved to New York. I can say that my life has changed dramatically... not necessarily for better or worse. My actions and inactions are not symptomatic of my character which is sometimes hard to remember. 

must remember:  Our problems are not our thoughts, but our attachment to the thoughts we have. Our words are not our own. 

Coachella was this weekend. I suppose that I have some animosity due to the fact that I had a free 3 day ticket sitting in the dust for me there. The lineup will never top the past years but I guess Prince would have been pretty boss. Actually, boss would mean that I would have been able to get close enough to even hear him over the hordes of frat boys, hipsters, adults with children under the age of 4, kids on acid, kids on ecstasy, hippies and weirdoes who are "so stoked to see Prince!". Not to mention the dust storms and 120 degree heat. Last year, Alex Lee almost melted. We did, however, go to Steve Mcqueen's old house where some friends were staying and saw his Mickey Mouse shaped pool. Also, we got ready for a bourgie DKNY party in the bathroom of a Palm Springs strip mall equivalent of JC Penny. The geriatric ladies made a point of insisting I wear sunscreen. 

Actually, I love Coachella. 

The end's not near, it's here.

Because of  the nonexistence of an a priori good, there is no moral criteria or standard to life which human kind must live up to. This, as well as the fact that we are fully responsible for everything that we are and everything that we're not, is what causes anguish, anxiety, confusion, despair.... 

You are what you're not and you're not what you are. 

People with self fulfilling prophecies are dangerous. Self destructive.  Self- destruction.

Will self-destruct. 

I accept everything that happened and how it happened and why it happened and if it happened and that didn't happen and don't happen and I love it when that happens...

Thats the trouble. 

You're in trouble. 

Weekend Wars

I feel nauseated.

At least that.

At least I was right about being number one.

I set the pace. I made my bed with me in it.

I made my bed...

Ego Mania.

Far, far away

Why is it that as soon as you can manage to convince yourself to forget about something it pops up again, it seems, almost instantaneously? I don't know if that falls inside the parameters of the notion of the rules of attraction.... law of attraction? Once you presume that everything is finished, it is reclaimed as if nothing was actually lost. I begin to wonder if the internalization of my issues and my psychosis and obsessive nature is the basis of the inconsistency. I assume that others are unreliable when in actuality, it is my fickle attitude that's responsible. 

I miss California. I can't decide if I love or hate that place. There appears to be no reason for any animosity. I blame California for more than she deserves. We'll soon be reunited and I can pay my apologies. 

The reconciliation will do me good. 

They call it stormy Monday, but Tuesday is just as bad

It's sad to say goodbye. There are so many scenarios that vary in intensity and significance in regards to saying the inevitable goodbye. It could be assessed as the ultimate form of rejection. 

Manipulation. 

I can only be who I am, and not take things personally, but sometimes I wonder what it is that creates tensions between certain people and not others. Some people refuse to be on the same team. When apologies will not suffice, what are we to do? Some things are irreparable and I suppose the acceptance of that fact and saying your own "goodbye" is the only option. Or, maybe not look to what the "end" means for the future, or how it effects the past, but in the sense of what it means for me right now...... 

Oh, dear. Dear as you always said. 

kisses. 

McJob

I was hired today. Nearly a year in New York city and finally... a job has surfaced. For the next month and a half I'll be helping a 57 year old man from Greece (who's job is to sell reverse mortgage loans) with his diction and grammar and helping him refine his selling skills. I had no idea I was qualified for such a position but women are in high demand in an office of all men, I suppose. Good money. 

Breakthroughs were made today. Emotional constipation will end soon, I hope. 

I heard a story of utter romance which put a smile on my face for the entire day. Honesty is, in fact, the best policy. So, congratulations to you, my friend, for your honest endeavor and the fitting outcome. It seems so easy when you hear it from honest lips. 

Actually, I have an honesty story of my own. 

Also, a story of patience. My hard work has finally done something.

I can't take the smile off of my honest lips. 

A Reader

It's just like Mick said, You can't always get what you want... 

hello; here we go.