french boy

i cannot eat, drink, sleep, study. i looked at someone who made me feel as if i was on fire.
he looks deep into the eyes of whomever he is talking to. he is gawky and awkward and confident in that. i don't understand him at all, i just travel with the motion of his hands. he constantly says "how do you say. . . " and that's how i feel most of the time.

hey hunks of the world!

today i felt swell. i drank lots of tea in my apartment and read a play. i walked around the city and went to my favorite tea house and drank a vanilla latte tea. i went to the video store and got Coming Home. unfortunately, i did not get to go to the checkout because i had to talk to someone on the dreaded cell phone. apparently, according to my sister, the man behind the video counter was lovely and scruffy and polite, and i would have totally dug him. argh, i was so sad i missed that. however, i fall in love with every scruffy gentleman i see, so . . . maybe it's a good thing i didn't see him. i have so far fallen in love with a man wearing a grizzly bear t-shirt in little italy, a man wearing a casiotone for the painfully alone t-shirt in a used bookstore, all the men at the used bookstore i regularly go to, a european in my class who reminds me of ben whishaw. my heart is pooped from all this love-at-first sight nonsense. . .

i am actually kidding -- i'm not falling love after first glance -- but wouldn't it be great if i started heckling cute guys on the street? you know, women are constantly honked at and men yell strange compliments from car windows. some women adore that, but i think it's unfair that women have to deal with that when men don't. so maybe i should start randomly shouting strange complements to the men.

"dude, your white v-neck t-shirt really accentuates your pecs"
or
"you look as if you could be sufjan stevens and rosie thomas' fake love child"
or
"you have the face of a Grecian god"
or
"now i know how it must have been to see lord byron face-to-face.
or
"i'll let you be in my dreams if i can be in yours" (dylan)

i think this is a revolutionary idea. if enforced, this could change the whole landscape of gender relations.

let's do this, girls!

“We are all so afraid, we are all so alone, we all so need from the outside the assurance of our own worthiness to exist."

The world is truly explosive with beauty. right now. but also, all the time, I just don't always have the eyes to see that, you know?

Yeah, I guess everything reminds you of something, but you're not everything anymore, thankfully. I think of you sometimes, but not a lot. I decided in the end of 2008 that I would no longer knowingly hurt myself. I would not fall in love with people who don't give a shit about me. I would not write long letters to people who never read them. I would focus my energy and love on people who care (a bit). Because it's not good to hurt yourself. Didn't Thom York sing "You do it to yourself, you do, and that's why it really hurts?" Words of wisdom.

We are given life, and yes we all have mental disorders, but we have to overcome them and try to love and spoon and help other people because they're just as lost and scared as we are (most likely). Let's not waste our lives on thinking of people who don't even know our names. They probably don't know their own name. Let's just fake our names and run away.

So,

Today was explosive with beauty because not once did I think of anyone with longing. I looked at my life straight in the eye and realized that some people were not the people I wished them to be. Impressionism, impressionism. Reading Ford Maddox Ford's "The Good Soldier" was a revelation for me. You should read it, too, but mostly you should just hold the door for people, smile at strangers, let your fellow student borrow your notes, send valentines to your loved ones, send your nephew Halloween candy or Izze drinks, give change to the nice fellows playing music on your street, dance a lot, and tell your family/friends/folks you love them supremely.

secure spoon

i'm drinking peppermint tea. my sister made it for me. she feels the need to take care of me. i think she sees me as being very fragile. i constantly shatter things- i just broke this big glass pan. The glass went flying everywhere... I got cuts all over my legs, my toes, my fingertips.

I'm not dysfunctional. I can do things. I am very independent in the sense of how I conduct myself, obsessively so. I don't like anyone to control my behaviour, at all. But I do like people to comfort me. I like to snuggle and spoon and hug because it makes me feel I am in the cocoon, I am not vulnerable anymore, I am safe.

I think I only feel really safe in my dreams.

PseudoLove

I think that in some masochistic way, I used to like unrequited love. It was almost a pleasurable thing for me to have this person that I elevate. I’d listen to Chet Baker’s “My Ideal” and pine and think of how perfect that imaginary boy was. But maybe I always knew he was imaginary. In my diary, I always used words like mysterious, untouchable; in geometry, my teacher would talk about intangible lines, planes, and I’d think of him. He was always far, far away, so far away that he was like a one-dimensional fictional character, an intangible plane in space, a dream, a sublime hero in a poem -- the Lancelot of "Lady of Shalott."And I think, I was really, really stupid, and all that pining may just reveal that I didn't want anyone at all. Maybe I was just scared of love and all the baggage that comes with it. Maybe I’m so magnetically drawn to mysterious boys because they’re mysterious---they're close enough to be electrifying, without being too terrifying.  I no longer want to fall for some mysterious boy too quickly and create a false, highly mythical identity for him. I’ve been so disappointed in life because I have hugely high expectations, created by listening to too many love songs and watching Benny and Joon too much and reading too much Yeats and listening to Chet Baker's "My Ideal" too much.

Lovers, you make me want to be in love

there is a blind couple that often ride the bus. although it may be rude to stare at strangers, i cannot help but notice how they interact. they help each other get off the bus safely; they lead in to each other when speaking so they can hear every sound; they hold hands, although it takes them a while to find each others hands. they're beautiful and honest and unfiltered. i wish my eyes functioned as a video recorder so it could capture their honest reflection of love. maybe, seeing them would make you feel that love does exist.. that there's such a thing as a soul mate. it certainly makes me feel more hopeful about the state of love.

I like these clothes. In a perfect world, I would never have to wear jeans and would wear 50's style dresses and long coats and bicycle necklaces everyday.