Menthol Cigarretes

college is a play-ground, this quasi world i feel i'm not really living in. i don't know what i'm doing here - just living day-to-day. sometimes, i wander around at night and it feels like home, like the city is mine. then the sun rises, and the people come out and the city is lost in the crowd although i'm still walking the same sidewalks.

times have changed to the point where i can't stand being alone with myself anymore.
is this a sign of actual loneliness or self-hatred?

currently: watching the ceiling light drip rain indoors

An excerpt from "After Dark" by Haruki Murakami:

"Have you got a boyfriend?" Korogi asks.
Mari gives her head a little shake.
"Still a virgin?"
Mari blushes with a quick nod. "Uh-huh."
"That's okay, it's nothing to be ashamed of."
"I know."
"You just didn't happen to meet anybody you liked?" Korogi asks.
"There's one guy I used to see. But..."
"You didn't like him enough to go all the way."
"Right," Mari says. "I had plenty of curiosity, but I just never felt like doing that. I don't know..."
"That's fine," Korogi says.. "There's no sense forcing yourself if you don't feel like it. Tell you the truth, I've had sex with lots of guys, but I think I did it mostly out of fear. I was scared not to have somebody putting his arms around me, so I could never say no. That's all. Nothing good ever came of sex like that. All it does is grind down the meaning of life a piece at a time. Do you see what I'm saying?"
"I think so."
"Someday you'll find the right person, Mari, and you'll learn to have a lot more confidence in yourself. That's what I think. So don't settle for anything less. In this world, there are things you can only do alone, and things you can only do with somebody else. It's important to combine the two in just the right amount."



This short passage contains a lot. There's a lot I want to say about it. I really like reading Murakami's work right now, especially this book. It puts me into mind of my own sleepness nights but in a soothing way, placing me in a slow-moving world of darkness lit with the fluorescence of a likewise insomniac city.
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Lost Lolita

Brigitte Bardot was once described as a woman-child. And although no one would ever liken me to that screen goddess, I feel as if I am the same way. When I was a little girl, I looked very mature. Now mature, I feel I look like a little girl.
(This maturity comes not from physical development but from my rather serious nature.)
Given, I have a penchant for strapped flats with socks and skirts and dresses. I keep my hair cut in a bob, the style of hair most little girls have worn at least once in their childhood. I'm small and often have the word "cute" applied to me. (Seriously, I'm not "cute".)
I know that people don't see me as looking like a child, but that's how I feel lately.
I have just used the word "feel" so often it's beginning to look funny, like I'm spelling it wrong or something.
But, continuing on with my "feelings" - walking around the city, I just feel lost and swallowed up in myself. The reach extends where ever I go. I feel small and insignificant again, and it feels wrong when grown men look and stare at me through their car windows. I am dizzy and disoriented in the streets and often look up in bewilderment when a car whizzes by just barely missing a collision with my body. My work is sloppy, and I keep making mistakes only to wake up from my shallow sleep to realize them and pound myself on the head. I can't concentrate fully on anything, my mind is teeming with all the other things I have to do. I'm fully awake from lack of sleep but I feel so dizzy, like this lack of it had elevated me to some high altitude and left my brain deprived of oxygen. I'm in a constant flux. Time is a 24 hour cycle, the division between night and day has been melded. Day or night is irrelevant when you're sitting in a windowless box.
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"Or is this not the secret of the obstacle between us? - that his type is the large buxon woman, heavy on the earth, while I will always be the virgin-prostitute, the perverse angel, the two-faced sinister and saintly woman."
-Anais Nin from Henry and June

Hello stranger

It's been a long long while, but I feel like writing again. About myself. About my life. About me me me. And some other things too.
So, I've started college and as much as I love it here, I just don't want to be HERE. I feel so alone being constantly surrounded by people. I keep rethinking everything and therefore never get anything done. Which has always been the way the course of my life has taken place. I lie inanimate on my bed just thinking about the way I want things to be, and never taking action, nothing happens.
Things aren't like that anymore. I'm still the same person, but things happen now. And that's what I want to write about.

edit: New life, new blog, that's always how it goes (with me at least...). So all the old posts have been hidden away in the recesses of Blogger and I'm starting anew.

Cotton Candy Machine

[THIS POST HAS BEEN ADDED LATER, MUCH LATER, today's date is december 6 2011. the originial post had no words, only a title "cotton candy machine" but i wanted to write this memory down before i forget because it was a very pleasant one.

i think i had a sleepover at susy's house, we woke up early because we had to volunteer at an elementary school in her neighborhood to get hours for national honor society. there was a festival of some sort and susy and i were in charge of working the cotton candy machine. it was hilarious. we had never made cotton candy before and it was so much fun! susy took over sales and i made the cotton candy, dipping the paper cone in the whirling machine until it was covered with enough fluff. i kept changing colors and flavors and we actually enjoyed the volunteering. jordan vaa and tg wignall were volunteering too and i remember talking with them a lot which made me happy because i had a huge crush on jordan and was attracted to tj as well. when we got back to susy's house our shirts were stiff from all the crystalized sugar, and our eyebrows and eyelashes were frosted pink. our hair felt like it was covered in hairspray. we took and shower together and it took FOREVER to get it all off. that was a fun day in high school, i iwsh i had written about it at the time instead of recalling the events 4years later.]