33: Stronger

I leave at least a half hour early from work every day. Shame on me. But it's so addicting. Why be there of no one needs me doing anything? What a waste of time. This is why the govt. is in debt (well, maybe not).

3 times today, all after 7 o'clock. That that don't kill me can only make me stronger. If not in body, then in mind.

Break is almost halfway over. I feel like going back to school would be more of a break than this is. I'm too tired to write any more.

32: Boss D.J.

I made a little coin purse with "Boss DJ" on it. Hella cute.

I want to learn to transverse with the sounds of everything eloquently, and to support my reasoning and justification of myself with that force, invisible as music, but positive as sound.* So that the poetry of beauty and pain and humor and anger all fly to me, knowing, and I can interpret and use it for translation. But I guess thats simply put as, I want to know and understand everything, and let's face it...

3 or 4 times today because none were very well-planned or well-executed, and because I won't be able to for a few days. My jeans are fitting damn well though.

Things would be much easier to say upon my microphone like a boss d.j. but I won't walk up upon the sea like it was dry land. Someday, hopefully.

Disneyland tomorrow!

*Emily Dickinson poem; don't remember which one.
"Boss D.J.", by Sublime

31: Ex-Factor

I did nothing today. At least I made money doing nothing. I also bought shoes that I shouldn't have bought. I buy too much for myself this time of year. I'm so selfish sometimes. And too opportunistic. I'm too damn opportunistic this time of year. And the rest of the year too, actually.

Once today. I had a salad at lunch and was freaking out about it all day. Weird.
No one has hurt me more than you.

Has anyone supposed it lucky to be born? I self-deprecate and push and pull my being to a certain contortion and paint my face and aim to portray this mannerism. Does this seem ridiculous that I would waste time to appear this way and to forget to recognize the meaning and the miracle of my existence? I am not always so vigilant of my own principles and I get swept with the trash blown by the wind along the street. Serves me.

Disneyland in a few days!

"Ex-Factor" by Lauryn Hill, The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill. "Song of Myself", Walt Whitman.

30: The Spark

And so it begins. I'm here in my city, and I'm in love with it. I feel the waves of airy velleities and revelations consume my toes, my hips, my shoulders, my soul, my ears, and my mind, and the fabric it weaves is thick burgundy and gold. So rich.

Twice today, but the second time, I tried to stop, but I didn't. A little scary, I guess. But I can do it so fast now, why the hell not?

My God, it's Christmas. I never feel like I'm enjoying it as much as I should be.

Only a week till Disneyland!

"The Spark" by The Roots, from the album Things Fall Apart.

29: Also, Searchers

It's almost break; thank God. One more test till I go home. Random: I need to learn to be happy by myself before I can be happy with someone else. Well, really do I? Who says that? Is it so wrong to believe that other people can complete you?

I am a soft-determinist. I believe that people's actions are influenced both by happenings in the world and by my own free will. This should mean that I cannot make myself happy, at least not all the time. My feelings are causally determined sometimes, and sometimes are by my own self-created situations. I'm not depressed or anything, but maybe this explains why people are depressed, epistemically. If one, to be happy, must be content by both their own definition, and the universe, through causally determined situations that influence one's motives and therefore actions, then the only way to be truly happy, by my definition (because I am a soft-determinist) would be to be happy within oneself and happy in the state of the world, or at least until the world changes my motives, and by effect, my actions based on free will.

"Faith is but a firm assertion of the mind." -John Locke
I am a religious person, but if I think about this not in terms of God-faith, this is a powerful quote. I can believe something if I truly do believe it, and I will truly believe it if I fully commit my mind to think so. How many things can this apply to? It's infinitesimal.

Three times. It's just so easy.

*Title from "The Christmas Story" by Dave Matthews

28: Moody

More and more I sit in bed and think that I am melancholy. I don't want to think I'm sad, because I'm not. I'm actually very happy here. Maybe I'm just lonely. It is the holidays.

I don't miss you, but I miss those pretty little works of your lexicon. I love those poets of their own body. I am their weakness, and they are mine.

Twice today, to make up for yesterday.

5 days till I see the love of my life again. I love you, San Francisco.

I really need to study. Fuck. Final tomorrow.

"Moody" by Dave Brubeck, Young Lions and Old Tigers

27: Baby, It's Cold Outside

Why can I never say what I mean to? I should have said whatever to him, and now I am kicking myself because I just stood there.

Once today, but much much better. I'm getting good at this.

It's fucking COLD in this room.

I want to just wrap myself up in this sustainable sadness because it certainly calms me down; why shouldn't it keep me warm as well?

26: Love Affair

Every time I think I want a boyfriend, something happens where I realize I don't. I want to grow. I want to learn metaphysics and poetry and even more music. I want to know everything. Who would understand that? I start talking (what they understand as nonsense) and I realize that no one understands me. But maybe that's how I want it.

I'm going to do it. I'm going to try to read the whole coursepack for my Philosophy class by the end of winter break. Then I'm going to read Plato's book on love. Or maybe vice versa. I'll start with that. Metaphysics is far easier than poetry.

Only once today, but it was much better. I said I was going to study.

Now I actually do need to study.

Hooray, it's Christmas. Only a week and a half until I see you again, San Francisco.

25: Talk To Strangers

Finally moving on. Some people are just assholes, and that's just the way the fucking world is sometimes. I'll get over it.

My God, I cannot WAIT for Christmas. San Francisco at Christmastime is my favorite thing in the world. If I can't be happy, the next best thing is the joy in the world surrounding me, and the hope that it will sink into my skin.

Twice today. It used to be about once a week. It started when I was sick from drinking too much, and then I would do it even when I didn't drink too much, and then I got to doing it when I was sober. I'm still not very good at it, but I'm getting better.

I'm kind of thinking that my house is about to be blown away by the wind right now...shit...
It's never been this windy here before that I can remember.

Where the hell am I headed?

*Talk To Strangers by Saul Williams

24: Acknowledgement

sits with you

my body is contained between my boots and my hat
but my mind floats
among the juniper trees and also
down the street and in
Kingston and Rome too.

.

the tall man on his way home from work,
his,
it is suffocating in his brain.

maybe yours is, but will you come see me?

.

i am a singer of those lost words.
you know, like
the way your heart is five minutes
after he left for good.
i came to see you.

.

my mind sits with you old man,
on the park bench feeding the ducks.
and also with you, little girl,
in the sandpit on the swings.

.

i see that the sky is chardonnay
and fluid time is all that is real
so you and i, we’ll drink up the stars.

you are held in reality,
but i live in what’s real.

23: Relax

***

automatic

this is an automatic position
scary, because, who am I now?
my eyes are blurry, and I see
something is wrong
just this moment, I was
just plugging in my laptop
behind my bed
who am i?
they are so loud
in the next room
god my throat stings;
my eyes watery
“what if she can’t see?”*
this shall be for myself
and I will love myself
immersed in this feature
because myself otherwise
is only a disappointment
and myself, without that
inner soil is Platonized**
and what I wish for.
I am still learning.

*what alli just said

**in this case, the idea that all that is solid and "material" is not real; that the things like nourishment and sex is what is needed by the body; Plato (or Socrates {see the Phaedo}) concluded that these are not real, and therefore did not matter in the metaphysical pilgrimage towards contentment.

***Title track: Relax by J*Davey; the bonus track on the Marco Polo disc.

God I cannot wait to be drowning in that cultural richness of San Francisco.

22: Clumsy

Why are we constantly trying to make sure that other people know that we are happy, even if we are not? What makes us trust someone so blindly, and more importantly, what insecure factor makes people seek and be sure that they have that trust? How much of a doucebag are you?

God, just because you looked at me right, I was stupid. I didn't listen to the warnings; I thought you had changed. I completely trusted you. I was a fucking moron. More importantly though, I am going somewhere. You're not. I am in school, and I have a plan, and when I'm not in school, I make more money in a week than you do in a year. It sucks for you. You sit around polluting your lungs and your good sense in the heavy pursuit of being a asshole to everyone who is nice to you who doesn't have a vagina. God I hope you're happy now. In a week or so, I'm gonna laugh my ass off about this and you, especially because you're sleeping with some girl who is probably letting you commit sodomy, and I'll thank my God for blessing me with enough sense to stay away from that. I'll also thank Him for not letting me get pregnant with your idiot polluted sperm.

I knew we were wrong from the start, really. You said you "loved music". HA. Reggae is a little bitty subgenre, and country (which I've never heard you listen to) is so shitty and simple that it has to have its own channel because most educated music listeners don't want to hear it. You love music. I'm laughing. Loving music is about LOVING MUSIC; not loving reggae and other random things. You're not even educated musically. It doesn't matter if your Dad's a drummer if you don't benefit from what he knows. If you're gonna play reggae, learn how it started, dumbass.

Also, Rastifarianism is not a culture, nor a state of mind. It's a RELIGION. Don't offend anyone else with your ignorance.

I'm sorry that in 10 years, you'll be poor, drunk, and lacking money so much that you can't afford your materialistic shit that doesn't even matter, and I'll be successful and even more enlightened than I am now. But hey, at least enjoy your own physical pollution of your self, and I wish you the best that you'll ever attain, which I'm sorry to tell you, is not much. :)

21: In The Beginning

It is better to light a candle than to curse the dark.*

I agree with Descartes concept, but if I were to start over and rebuild my own philosophical principles, I wouldn't know where to start. Is the basis of philosophy the body-soul relationship (the individual) or the relationship of life to the afterlife and God (the social)? Or is it neither? Or both?

If it is the individual, the first thing to understand would need to be whether the soul and body are separate entities, comparable a bassline and the melody in a song, existing simultaneously in one work. The body must last as long as or not as long as the soul, since my soul has been with me as long as i have been alive and will be with me at least until i die. At least this is a start...

As for the social, the concept of God and whether our existence is an aspect of His work, or whether or not he even exists (though i feel that this question is against what i do feel) is not yet applicable; I don't know enough to argue.

K'naan, "In The Beginning" from the album The Dusty Foot Philosopher.

20: Drivin' Me Wild

People surprise me.

title: blue air (for right now)
draft on nov. 4th, 2007:

staves intertwine and
we sound like the hippocrene
you grasp my hand and
my soul lets go and
i am avant-garde
the cold air sublimates
my being and i make to
spread the my atoms of
my body among those
of this flushing wind and
blue air and just
as i combust,
that centrifugal weight
brings me back
but you look at me
and i've lost myself again.

november 4th, 2007

19: Saw Red

I should have walked away.

It makes no sense at all. I think I'm going to have a bit of a regression. It's the worst feeling in the world to feel like you're not enough.

18: Giant Steps

I am so confused.

Do I believe my friends or him? 3 separate attempts at defamation vs. an oblivious potential. I've never been one for rumors or acting on them, but 3 with in 2 days? I wonder what else will come of it. I can't sleep. Should I walk away?

17: Scarlet Begonias

I don't know where I've been, but I've been trying to soak it all in. So far, all I know is I know almost nothing for sure. I know I am solid and sound, to me the converging objects of the universe perpetually flow, all are written to me, and I must get what the writing means.* I feel it all going through me; passing nonchalantly through my ears and brushing by my temple, and yet, little stays within. I know that I am not nothing; that this world holds me gripped in my observations, and because I observe and think, I am something, and I am real but there are days that I wake up and feel like I'm dreaming all day. Maybe I was dreaming. Was last week a dream? Maybe I'll stay asleep a little longer.

I know that I don't know when to walk away and when to stay. But, once in awhile you get shown in the light in the strangest of places, if you look at it right,** and it makes everything harder.

Of course I'm into the blues.


* "Song of Myself". Walt Whitman, 1855.
** "Scarlet Begonias" Sublime. 1992, 1996. (Cover of the song by Grateful Dead)

16: The Lesson

I applied for a job today at a record store. It would be one step closer to the goal. I don't understand why anyone wastes their life doing what they hate...

Fate
I don't believe in free will, but I'm not sure if I believe in fate either. People who believe in free will are a bit naive though, when they don't consider what seems obvious to me. Maybe the choices that you feel are "free will" are actually just choices that you are meant to make. Why not? Maybe fate is inevitable, but also, maybe the human hope for freedom is too.

I feel like the only times I am truly happy are when I'm sitting at a piano all alone and belting the only songs I know how to play. I got so much pride, I got so much soul. But when I leave that room, I forget who I am.

15: Flow

Answering the question, to where the hell am I gonna find bliss
My soul’s music is timeless
Keep it close to your heart; it’s hard to define this
A pint is not enough liquid courage to go ‘round
So when I draw from this universe I put it into the sound
Would have been lost but found myself in the process

I need to figure out what I want to do. I would die before I work a desk job for my career. Life is short enough, and I'll be miserable enough with the shit the government and news agencies and Ann Coulter wants you to be afraid of. I will not spend the majority of my day wondering what I could have done instead, and wondering when I'll be done. I love music so much that I want to immerse myself in it for my career. But with better pay than a struggling musician. So I guess, interships then. I'll focus my universe into the sound.

I'm going to stop drinking so much. Fucking "liquid courage" is right.

What if consciousness were dreaming and dreaming was reality? Would we all get what we want or would we interfere with each other's happiness?

I wish that my life could be as simple as the flow. It goes in one direction always. There's different branches, but it doesn't decide for itself. The water has no free will. Sometimes I wish fate were so; that I wouldn't have to consider the options. Maybe that is fate in itself.

14: Badfish

Oh boy, it's been a while; it's nice to see you.

I've made some bad decisions recently. I slept with someone I shouldn't have and now I am supremely awkward around him. But, just to make things a bit worse, I discovered that I have feelings for his friend. BAD. I really wish that I didn't because my life would be unbelieveably easier if I didn't always fall for people I didn't know so well. Not only that, but my other (female) friend dated that guy. Balls.

Can God just lighten up on me?

I'm in a beautiful new house now at college and we built a sick beirut table, complete with Beatles and Sublime lyrics. I'm pretty excited about it.

~

Am I a romantic to think that people are basically good? Or a John Locke? What is the problem with the optimistic thinking that people won't let you down? Maybe that's a hippie thing. Or maybe it's just naive.

13: Never Take Friendship Personal

I'm starting to realize how much of an idiot I was during Christmas Break. I legitimately screwed up a few relationships. Or did I? I definitely screwed up one. And I'm most sorry for that, but some I didn't expect. I had a 6 month long first impression of one of my best guy friends, and as it turns out, it would be more constructive for me to talk to a neighborhood squirrel about my problems, because even that has better focus than he does. Now I just feel stupid for how much effort I put into that relationship. I offered him a place to stay next year if he's stuck without a house and have always been overly generous to him. I FOR SURE don't want a relationship with him or even like him like that at all, but it's always been easier to connect with guys for me because they don't carry the bullshit most girls do. I just realized that everytime he calls me or "wants to hang out" he wants something from me. Fuck that.

I pierced the nape of my neck. How stupid am I?

I want nothing more than to look back on my life and think that I had so much fun and was stupid, impulsive, and irrational at some point in my life. It was worth it. Even though I passed out and seized a couple times.

I met a guy last weekend. He definitely made me think he was interested beyond that night. He kissed me and didn't even try the wandering hand shit! Not only that, but he asked for my number like an hour before that. People will never cease to surprise and dissapoint me. I'm starting to get sick of being alone.

12: Don't Mean A Thing

That last one was pretty cocky. I'm cocky when I'm drunk.

Life is a fluid statement, so loosely based on individualistically interpreted morals and behaviors. My sentence structure can go anywhere at all that it wants. My words define my life. How easy it is to ruin all my relationships with anyone by my words alone. My sentences are fluid, spontaneous, and intricately constructed. As are my relationships.

My life is a jazz song. My voice is the trumpet solo, trying to be heard. My conscience is the walking bassline. Love is the beat, and the trombone glissando is my depression and happiness, building and falling.

I love jazz, but I never knew why. I love the fact that it mirrors my life and life in general. It's so unpredictable.

11: Show Me What You Got Little Lady

Alright.
Possibly i could've written that last one in a drunken state.

Anyway...I made a mistake. Well,a few. I get carried away...more or less...with my kissing. I don't mean to lead people on, but you know, it happens.

I wear my heart on my sleeve; and above all else I mean what I say. I don't mean for people to get carried away with me, because I don't mean shit by it.

I can't just sit here and give a piece of my heart away to everyone thagt walks by for me. It's foolish. I'd live my life of regrets. I love my life right now, and it'll be hard to walk away from one day, but eventually I'll have to. I'm happy to say that when I do it'll be worth it. I love my friends now...they'v already changed my life, but it happens that I'll have to get past it. Roll past. I can't wait.

I always feel like I'm waiting for something. You know what?

The saddest part is that I'm waiting for something.

And I know exactly what, I just don't admit it.



I'm waiting for my break; I just won't say it out loud.


And to everyone who doubts, i say,
"You haven''t heard me sing...it's cute that you have no idea."


How cocky is that?

I'm sorry. I'll sleep now.

10: Who's Ridin Dirty?

Whoa. So I'd really like to know who wrote the last post.
Someone hacked? High five to them; well done. They should have been a bit more creative though.

At first I thought maybe I was just really drunk when I posted it and I just don't remember, but that is too weird. I'm in lust? Who talks like that? If whoever found it is a friend of mine, how did you find it?

9: Ridin Dirty

Yeah, I'm not gonna lie: I'm in lust. I'm in lust with a few guys: I won't name names. Yeah, Smack that, or whatever. Id like whatev. I'm whatev right now. Reflective, if anything...I'm fuckin pissed off at my friends. Like NOW.

8: I'm Better Than That

Friends aren't guys who call you at 12 am looking for ass. Especially the ones who would brag to their friends later about how easy it was. Fuck that. Don't tell me you love me and try to give me a hug. I'm not taking your shit. I know you better than that. I will not be that girl. I'm not as stupid as your other girls.

I'm getting so sick of these fake friends.

It's time to start over, and let go.

7: Thieves In The Night

Finally the weekend is approaching. It took too long. My Jazz Styles class will be great though. I'm excited.

I'm not so introspective today. It's probably because I don't want to scratch the surface any more. I think I'll just lie here in the sun.

Our morals are out of place and got our lives full of sorrow
And so tomorrow comin later than usual
Waitin on someone to pity us
While we findin beauty in the hideous

"Thieves in The Night"
-Mos Def and Talib Kweli, Black Star

6: Love Ain't Nothin But Emotion And Game

suburbs.

he intrigues me
slowly, but
so much to do today
without the light in my soul
draw your lines
because I’m lost
I’m out in the suburbs,
and I’m lost
all of my days
in the neighborhood
so much for simple
so much for easy
so much
it reminds me of you
pause. nothing.
there’s so much to do today.
a lot to do.
and an existential reason
behind every chore.



i miss you.


june 2006

It seems like I was so young. I hope I know much more now.

5: Things Fall Apart

Being broken also brings the ability to see the wreckage in others. I guess it's a way to use each other for support, but it is still a depressing ability. I was picking up his pieces, as he was mine. It's so much easier to clean up shattered glass that you didn't knock over yourself.

I want to live where the sun comes up. I live too much for the end of the day reflections and regrets, and not for the optimism of morning. But I suppose it makes me a better person.

I hate that I spill my guts without fail everytime I drink. Last night I talked about my eating disorder and my romantic life. Dumb ass. I don't know really what to say the next day. It's better that I don't.

4: How Fragile We Are; We Just Don't Show It

I love San Francisco, tragically, because no matter how lost I feel, I am never aimless, like the people that walk and sleep on those streets. I can't imagine being without direction in my life; never having something to hold onto...it's unreal. Nevertheless, that city makes my heart heavy. It's quite possible that I've never loved anything more in my life. Something so accepting and rich like San Francisco makes all individual people seem incomplete and shallow. There's so much beauty in everything. So liberal. I love it.

My heart is the worst kind of enemy. It is what it is, even when I don't understand it. It's impossible to compare a love for a place to love for people. Or is it? You take comfort in each, take pride in each, and grow attachment towards each. But, the city is always there for you; it's dependable. Your favorite bench is always there. You'll never be lost on the same streets you walk every day. People change; they're unpredictable. My love for the city is as constant as the city's being.

I saw him at the soccer game yesterday. It was all I could do to not go up to him and apologize yet again for being so stupid. What else can he really do but let time wait me out?

In the story of Narcissus, he falls in love with his own reflection in a lake. Narcissus gives all his love to this lake, but the lake cannot return his love; it only politely mirrors what he wants to see, until the lake waits out Narcissus and he dies. Meanwhile, an estranged Echo, a nymph, cries over losing Narcissus; what she never had. Mike called a lot today, and the city reminded me of many things.

How I love my city.

3: I'm Thinking I'd Prefer Not To Be Rescued

2 am January 3rd
I'm writing this while I'm kind of inebriated, because i think it shows you a little bit of how I really am. Love is a curious thing. Even when you know the one you love but aren't with won't find out, you still feel that hooking up with someone will be a sort of revenge on him; something to make him jealous. It's sad but true. If not for my time barrier, I would've hooked up with an Englishman last night/this morning. Pretty cute, funny, and hot accent. We'll just see what happens with that "pile of sex". Hahahaha.

11 am January 3rd
It's important to pride oneself on being respectable. Despite the things I think and say, I do believe that, and I generally follow that principle. On the other hand, I have firmly decided against going out with Mike. It's not him at all. He's a great guy and a good respectable guy. Maybe he just came at a bad time. If you can't support yourself, you're not ready to support anyone else; and I can't support much right now. In a way, I guess I'm still looking for myself also, but every day I find a new piece of me, and throw an old piece of me away.

I took this personality test earlier called the Rorschach Personality Test (pretty sure). It gives you a color personality. Basically it tells me I am a Yellow Personality externally, and a White Personality internally. Surprise. The White basically means that I am incapable of making decisions, and am ambivalent to things. The Yellow says I "like to party" and I am generally pretty enthusiastic and happy...on the outside.

It is now January 4th, but I'll continue January 3rd's post.

1:45 am January 4th:
I went to a get-together that was kinda far away, and, naturally, I missed my boys. I guess its ok to say that, because almost every party they have been to, they have come with me or were invited by me. The inviter always says, "You should bring your boys. Theyr'e pretty cool". Sometimes they make me mad, but at the end of the day, I love them. Anyway, my ex that I am attached to is in that group. This creates problems. So the other guys wanted to hang out, but first had to drop off my ex, but by then it was 1:30 and i knew the rest of them were drunk and would inevitably hit on me anyway, like usual. It's hard not to love acceptance.

I have 2 days left in the Bay.

2: This Must Be It, Welcome To The New Year

I don't think I ever learn from my mistakes; I'm always making the same ones.

There's this guy who really likes me. He's such a sweet guy and so nice, and he's good friends with my best friend. But, and there's always a but, I don't think I want a relationship. At least one with someone here. I guess I'll have to wait till I go back to school, but even then, finding a prospective boyfriend in college is like winning the lottery. I'm too picky.

I had an epiphany today. I don't believe in love. I believe in attachment. That's why women's hearts get shattered, and men's dented. Men don't get attached very easily. Months ago that I decided I wouldn't get attached anymore; that I wouldn't trust anyone anymore. It's just safer. I've learned to build a shell around myself so I don't get hurt. If you don't take anything as yours, you have nothing to lose. You only live for yourself and and you only have yourself to depend on.

The last time I cried was about a month after my last ex and I broke up. I got involved with a different ex one night when I believed I was still in love with the the other. When it was over I went to my best friends house. It was about 4 am. I walked in, sat down on the bed, and without saying anything, I started crying.

I don't cry over anything anymore.

1: That's Just The Way It Is

I'm not going to start with a history of myself, because that's lame and doesn't really tell you anything about anyone. Let's be honest, you don't even really care where I've been or who I am, nor do I feel like typing a life story.

All you need to know, is that I am in love.

The first day we were together, I knew he was different. I knew I would fall for him. We got too close too fast. Intimacy is such a funny thing, really. The closer you get physically to each other, the less your emotions matter. Needless to say, I lost him, and I can't tell you how often my world falls down on me.

I had convinced him otherwise; that I had no feelings for him. But naturally, after a bit of gin, the truth is obvious. He came on to me. We made out in a few rooms, and everyone else at the party knew it. A couple days later, New Years Eve, which was last night, I kissed him. Something in my inebriated head said it was a good idea.

He's moved on, and he's not interested. And here I am, straight out of a Pablo Neruda poem, looking at him from the outside. He wants to meet new girls, and I'm in the way of that. God, I don't think I could take seeing him with other girls. My stomach hurts.

It would be useless to sing my heart into your ears. You would hear no melody.
You would not sing it back to me.
So I'll sit here, practicing the song I could never sing to you,
and trying to forget why I wrote it.

I wish I had the chance to lose him again.