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Wednesday, 16 February 2011

will this be what my life will look like?

me: i wish my job actually taught me skills. when i was interviewing for work study positions at the begining of last semester i got offered three different jobs: the one im at, another one for the social welfare/legal studies department, and one for the sociology department. but they both paid less, like 2 dollars less, so i stuck with the job i have now!

but, i think at the social welfare/legal studies i wouldve actually gotten to learn and DO things, like help out with scheduling classes, making flyers on photoshop because thats what she had explicitly told me.

this morning it was soooo hard for me to get out of my bed. i entertained in my mind just staying in and calling in sick to work but i dragged myself out and i thought to myself, "is this how im going to the live the rest of my life? after graduation, when i hopefully eventually get a job, i'll just be dragging myself to work."

it was kind of a sad, lonely thought

Friday, 04 February 2011

a sandwich.

i want to say that i feel like a zombie, because if i were a zombie, i imagine this would be what it feels like. "this" is the state of my mind and my body for the past week, including the past 10 minutes, in which i had been staring at the computer screen at work with no neurons firing in my brain at all, or so it seemed.

the second thing i did after thinking the above thought was to google the definition of the word. (in voodoo), zombie is defined as the body of a dead person given the semblance of life, but mute and will-less, by a supernatural force, usually for some evil purpose. (in informal), zombie is defined as a person whose behavior or responses are wooden, listless, or seemingly rote; automaton.

neither quite define what my state of mind and body has been like, which would lead to the logical conclusion that i cannot feel like a zombie. but i do! i suppose i do not fully understand the word.

maybe i need caffeine in my system to feel "alive" again. i cannot understand how ive gone through this past week half-awake, it seems, and unaware of anything around me. my every waking desire is to be asleep, to somehow escape the confines of my thoughts that restrict and limit my words and interactions with the people around me.

ive missed writing so much. i notice i dont ever use the word blogging, to replace the writing. i believe it's because these entries are for me, and for no one else, and typing on a keyboard and seeing the words and sentences pop up on the screen is an infinitely more satisfying and pleasurable experience than writing with a pen on my journal paper.

nothing traumatic has recently befallen my existence, which leads me to wonder why my outlook on my life has changed; but i supposed something traumatic has befallen me. i dont know what to make of it.

i wish to fall into oblivion, a whirlwind of motions and behaviors to which i will not be held responsible for, and where i can utterly and completely free my mind from listlessness and anomie.

along the veins of this calvin and hobbes strip, since i cannot get my oblivion, the trillion billion dollars, space shuttle, and private continent, i will settle for a hot shower, my new fireplace mac app, a cup of hot cocoa, and the passage, my current book squeeze which i dont even have because it was recalled by the campus fiction library three days ago.

unfortunately, even those will not do..

i will content myself with sleeping 9 hours tonight.

Tuesday, 12 October 2010

I think I remember those eyes

I feel like this font today. Kind of distant, separate; all the letters don't quite squish next to each other.

It's been a while since I've written in here.

It's been a while since I've used proper capitalization and punctuation. That's odd. ....

Some days, when I don't have a lot of conversation with people I feel empty and cold inside. I feel disconnected from my roommates and friends if I don't see them or have a random conversation. I hate talking about the same things over and over again in different conversations. I haven't seen or talked to one of my friends in a week. I wonder what it says about our friendship if neither of us is making the effort to maintain the relationship by either 1) calling, 2) texting, 3) emailing. In this age where communication is made easier and easier for us, why does it feel like it's easier to lose touch with people? Everything becomes de-personalized. Sometimes I feel like I connect more with characters in books than with real people.

Instead of feeling nostalgia for the past I'll experience it while reading a good book or listening to a good song or watching a good scene. I guess it can't really be nostalgia since I've never experienced it in real life. I guess some things are better left to the imagination. I'm at the point in my life where I'm slowly getting myself accustomed to the idea I won't get to experience the things I've always wanted to experience because I'm too old or it's too useless. That's horrible. I'm only 21. My life isn't even half over, at least I hope. I'm so un-adventurous I've never even gotten drunk. Want to know why? Because I already know what it's like to have a hangover (experiencing blood-pounding, killer migraines are no laughing matter) and why would I willingly do something to deal with such a consequence? But some people would say that limiting myself is a good thing and that boundaries are necessary. No worries there; my conscience is there in every aspect of my life I could never lose my inhibitions. My insecurities additionally ensure that I never do anything crazy. I can't get away with those things because I'm not a pretty face. .. or a pretty body. It's disappointing that I restrict my own life with these thoughts. I've always wanted to travel to Greece, but I've given up on the idea of it ever happening. The thought is just some pretty dream I can always think about and hope for but have to resign that it just won't happen. Because, honestly, when will it? Could it? I don't think I'm a pessimist. I think I'm a realist. I could possibly go for a cynic.

When I'm stressed out, I search for my current favorite upbeat song (DJ Got Us Fallin' In Love), put on my earphones, and kind of dance in my chair (move my shoulders up and down, sometimes have some arm waving, head bobbing). Why don't I just dance around my room? Because I have a roommate. Because she's usually a good student and studies. Because she can't study with the music on. Because she doesn't listen to the music I listen to. Because it's rude to blast it when she has a quiz tomorrow. I usually sit at a weird angle when typing on my laptop. I have my left elbow resting on my armchair and my right elbow pressed onto the glass-top table from Ikea I use as a desk. My elbow always gets a little pink and sore at the end of one of these sessions.

If the volume is turned up loud enough and all I can feel in my brain are the sound waves coming from the earphones or the car stereo, and the bass, it takes over my whole body and I literally can't think about anything else. I believe music is underestimated. It never ceases to amaze me that people create their own beats, tunes, melodies, lyrics and compile it into this (usually) 3 and a half minute song. There is literally no end to the kind of music that can be created. Sometimes I'll ask my roommate, "What do you think life would be like without any music?" and I guess the impact of that question doesn't hit them as hard as it hits me whenever I stumble upon the thought.

Life would be colorless. Basically, music is emotion! Well, not all songs. Some, like Usher's song, are just meant for you to rock your body from side to side. HANDS UP!

Sunday, 25 July 2010

do you see what i see?

i know i should be above it and its weird to even think or acknowledge the fact that even as im trying to convince myself that i AM above it, i still want that nice gushy fuzzy feeling of acceptance or love or admiration other girls get when they're given a sincere compliment, not just about their beauty or looks, but about their character or personality, from either guys or girls. and the compliments guys make to girls to get in their pants definitely do not count.

i think most of all, the sincerity behind the compliment is what makes it so special. it doesnt really matter what is said, as long as you can tell the person giving the compliment is saying the words with no ulterior motive and is saying those words just to let the person know their thoughts or opinion. i think a compliment given in complete sincerity is one of the most unselfish things a person can do.

and i think its not so much the fact that ive never gotten one of those compliments that make my heart sad enough to feel like its ripping a little or for me to tear up with wistfulness, but the fact that its because i dont have any of those simple, beautiful (not in the physical sense of beautiful), or stunning traits that would garner such attention, or enough attention to be brought to MY attention.

its something about the surreality of those compliments that make me sad to think the only way i'll ever get to experience it is by reading comments made by other people on a blog titled "Today's Warm Fuzzie Moment: Tell Me the Best Compliment You Ever Received".

i have to believe that there is some kind of inherent desire to recognize beauty and to define it in so many words.

theres some kind of amazing power it holds over someone. or i guess, it would hold over me. imagining it make me wonder....

its just that compliments arent something you HAVE to say. but people will say it anyway, just because they want the person to know that its what they think. and isnt it amazing how much other people's opinions hold influence over us, to the point that they might actually change what we think of ourselves?