Sunday, 22 August 2010

  • i desperately need to see my gynecologist.  i'm finally getting over my cold and now...fucking sores and shit down under? and i just happen to go on my period...now.  what the FUCK is up with this summer?  that trip is beginning to fade and so are the pleasant moments, all brought under a different perspective with this shit.  i'm pretty sure it's nothing serious (thank you google), but i just want it to go away asap.  i want to enjoy my days outside, and not have to waddle around the house. 

    tomorrow i'm getting that haircut.  short short short.  fuck him and everyone else who keeps telling me not to cut my hair because it's gorgeous long.  yeah, i know it's gorgeous long, but hey, i'll be even hotter with a mess of a shag on my head.  and you know what, if he thinks he can keep me as the "opposite" girl, the dark haired, olive skin, vivacious black haired asian, then he can just suck it.  because i am the opposite.  and i can do everything better than she could. 

    i've been posting a lot on my tumblr lately, having nothing to do...not wanting to do anything i'm suppose to be doing (i.e. writing, studying for gre's, getting recommendations). 

    i'm so agitated. i'm used to having a healthy body.

Saturday, 21 August 2010

  • i don't like what we're doing. 

    i'm vexed. at him. but as much as i want to tell him, and i have considered it, i can't bring myself to do it.  i keep thinking, "he's got enough on his plate right now, he doesn't need for another person to be upset with him, upset with herself."

    he's loyal, and he takes the principle of duty very seriously.  i respect that, but in this situation, my gut tells me it's wrong.  it's wrong the way he rationalizes his relationship with ksenia and with me.  love and marriage are not to be rationalized.  you can't just sleep with someone who shares your desires and conclude that's it's okay.  i know he doesn't agree with society's definition of what's right and what's wrong, especially when it comes to "cheating."  well, i think they're like stereotypes; enough people become associated with an idea, it becomes accepted and popularized.  well, we're all human, and as humans, we share certain feelings in similar situations. i empathize and i nurture.  i imagine what it'd be like to be her, possibly marrying a man she loves with all her heart on the other side of the world, who happened to have spent a week with his best friend/lover.  he keeps telling me he thinks she's not quite the right fit, or that a part of him hopes she won't get the visa, or that she's "not the person" to do such and such with (implying that i am).  i wouldn't want the man i were to marry to think of me in such ways.  he's not being fair to her, which is saying a lot since he's supposed to be in love with her.  and he is, but he's already told me that it seems he is more in love with me than with her.  that doesn't do any of us a whole lot of good.

    this isn't fair.  for any of us.  and right, marriage isn't fair.  they shouldn't be pressured into marrying just to be with each other, but that's the card they were dealt.  but he treats it like a "try it and see how it goes" kind of deal, which isn't what you do with marriage.  hasn't he considered the severity of the decision for her?  she's leaving her entire life behind, for a whole new world.  you don't just travel across half the world to "try it and see how it goes."  you marry the person you cannot imagine being without.  you marry the person that's on your mind 24/7.  you marry the person you can't wait to wrap your arms around, and never have to let go.  you marry the person you can't wait to make love with, but even more, to wake up to the next morning.  you marry the person you don't ever want to be apart from.  you don't marry the person you have doubts about.  it's simple as that.  and sure, no one wants to have a cross-atlantic relationship over skype and four weeks worth of visits per year, but when circumstances arise that demands marriage, you reevaluate your feelings.  and if you find that those feelings still take priority, marry.  if not, then don't just go along with it like someone's pulling your life's strings.  no one's forcing you to marry.

    i guess what i'm really bothered by is...i don't want to be the third wheel.  which i am.  and no matter how he reassures me, and no matter how much he believes in what he tells me (which i know he does), the reality is, i am the "mistress" and his soon-to-be-fiance is being cheated on.  i don't want to be that girl.

    i don't regret the week, i don't regret what we did.  none of it.  but he has to realize that it's done and over with the moment i stepped on that plane back.  and he has to realize that his reasoning, his logic, is faulty.  if he keeps thinking like this, somewhere down the road he's going to find someone else, and he's going to go for it.  then she'll find out, and her world and everything she ever believed in would shatter, and she would learn real hate, and he would learn real loneliness.

Monday, 16 August 2010

  • he's sleeping again.  it's one of the most beautiful things i've ever seen.  my heart could break.

    i love him, i do.  but sometimes, i ask if i'd want to have a relationship with him.  some days i could imagine us being together, loving each other, living together.  maybe even getting married.  on other days, i'd want someone different, someone who could jump and run and pick me up and swing me around. 

    but i could never drift far from him.

    is it odd that i find myself wanting to go home every so often, while i'm here?  have i really resolved my feelings toward him or am i just running away? or worse, am i just getting a "fix," and will discover eventually that i'm not really in love with him?  there are no lies more convincing than my own.

    am i merely indulging in the thrill of having someone stowed away in my heart, unblemished by the on-goings of my life, of my friends, of my web of relationships?

     

    it's our last day together, and it's almost 3pm.  i want to go out, to see all the places, to take all the pictures, but i want him to sleep more.

    i gave him my owl necklace. he named it Archimedes. 
    i'm giving him the bottle of stars tonight.  when i go back home, it won't be the same days anymore.  i won't be able to sit and watch Bones and Dexter and fold these stars.  when i leave here, i'm going to have to move on with my life.  i'm not sure if i can bring him along.

    last night we had sex.  i want him.

Saturday, 14 August 2010

  • what could i say about this trip, except that it's everything and nothing i had expected it to be?

Monday, 02 August 2010

  • he's gone.

    now it's just me and the folks, again.

    and of COURSE, the moment i get back mum starts to complain about his guest etiquette.  true, i noticed something was off when he didn't thank them for having him over or when mum said, "come back soon."  that was rude of him, not going to lie.  i assume he was very uncomfortable with them, from what i'm not sure. maybe because he heard me argue with mum over the phone? or maybe because i had to sleep outside on the couch?  who knows, i'll ask him later.  but jeez, mum didn't have to tell me that it was because i was a bad host.  i had no idea that he wouldn't acknowledge her when she said hi or something, otherwise i would've said something to him about it.  i told her i didn't know, and she said, "of course you didn't, you never keep us in mind" i.e., i'm an ungrateful, selfish child.  sure, why not.  blame it on me.  you've never taken the effort to build a real relationship between us anyway.  you just assume things and assume you're right about them.  you have no idea. no idea. 

    in any case, i do want to know what was up with his attitude towards my folks, because that was not cool.  i know we didn't get to be home a lot of the time and see my mum, but i do believe her when she said she made a conscious effort to be friendly/social towards him.  maybe he had a bad experience when he visited his asian friend in cali last time.  apparently the mother just handed a bucket of kfc to him lol.  and i had told him that my mum suggested a mcdonald's down our street for us, so maybe he thinks my folks just looked down on him as an ignorant american/mexican.  who knows. i don't want to fume over this anymore.

     

    sometimes i just hate my mum for being so fucking annoying.  i don't know how my dad did it, stay with her for so long.  it's probably why he looks depressed/fatigued sometimes, and just sits there eating crackers and reading. 

     

    not going to discourse tonight. i'm tired as fuck and a little nauseous from two haagen daaz bars and a giant chunk of french roll lathered in hummus.

Friday, 30 July 2010

  • i'm excited for the next few days, but i also kind of wish they were over already.

    i'm nervous that i won't show him a good time here.  there's so much to see and do that i feel like i can't prioritize the things that i'd want him to see and the things that he should take away as a "tourist."  there's too much.

    maybe i should just take it easy and do things that I don't normally do in the city.

    i was really happy tonight when we were walking home and he just loved the walk.  seeing him in awe with the streets and how we could "keep turning and never stop walking" made me see my neighborhood in a new light.  i wasn't him, but i could imagine how novel and foreign everything looks.

    i should just ditch the whole idea of having him "see nyc" and just have him experience places i've been to that i've really enjoyed, and have new some adventures of our own, together.

Thursday, 29 July 2010

  • where is he??

    transferring flight from chicago to nyc cancelled, then subsequent flight postponed...i hope he's on his way.

    can't wait to see him!

    dinner on austin street and then despicable me/the sorcerer's apprentice!

  • jason will be here in 12 hours!  i'm so very excited to show him the city for the next 5 days.  i'm also a little nervous, because there are so many things i'd like for him to experience (and moments for us to share) and i'm afraid we won't have time for them.

    my parents are making life difficult for me, again, by telling me to give my room to him and sleep with mum in the bedroom, while my dad sleeps on the couch.  that would be really inconvenient since we'll be getting back late almost every night and my dad's a really light sleeper.  he doesn't condone late night returns, and it's just..restricting. i looked forward to late night talks and walks and such, but i can't do that with jason with dad trying to sleep 4 feet away. i told jason he could stay here to return the favor since i stayed for free at his friend's place with him for a week when i last flew down to tx.  plus he drove me around everywhere.  this is the least i can do.  it worries me that dad would embarrass me and make jason feel uncomfortable and awkward.  i totally wouldn't put it past dad to lock the door one of these nights.  he doesn't like me coming home late (and i don't think he knows just how late i've come home, i.e. 3/4am) because he sees it as me using home as a hotel, which i do find to be a very dignified and respectable way of seeing the importance of home.  but...it's just during these days where i just want to be out and have fun with my friends...especially one who just flew up from tx to visit.  ugh.  i'm 22 and i'm scared of my father yelling at me for not getting home and sleeping at a respectable hour.  it's 4am now and if he were to wake up to go to the bathroom or kitchen, i'd immediately darken my laptop screen and hop onto bed so he'd think i'm sleeping.  i respect his emphasis on a healthy, routinely lifestyle, but i really need some freedom.  some time to just do things without thinking, "would dad be upset if i did this? how would they probably respond if i did this?" need to move out, or simply have a month away from them.

    alright, time to sleep.  must get those stomp tickets tomorrow!

Wednesday, 28 July 2010

  • the first day he gets to lubbock, he talks to me.  two of his friends are working night shifts, and he is alone in the friend's house without access to internet.  he texts me asking if we could talk over skype.  no internet meant we resorted to phone conversation.  he tells me he wishes i were there so he could tell me his memories.  the longest period he had ever stayed in any place was in lubbock, from junior high to the end of high school.  i want to know his memories, but i know it wouldn't compare for him to merely tell me.  he's restless.  he confides that he feels he would want to experience a deep connection right about then, with someone.  we both know it's me he wants there, to share those memories with and consequentially, those emotional reaches.  he confides that he has had the secret wish to explore my body with his hands, in no means sexual.  i tell him my butt, breasts, and crotch are off limits, but other than those areas, he has my permission to touch. 

    he's more comfortable talking over the phone with me.  his sentences are fluent, his words lighter.  he is not distracted by the image of me, the subject of his desires, the fire in his heart, even if it's only over a screen.  conversely, i am more relaxed as i adjust to the tone of his voice, the almost whimsical ease with which he asks his questions and confides his secrets.  not staring into his mournful, yet loving, eyes, i don't feel compelled to adopt the demeanor beneath his deep admiration, his perpetual longing. for me.  i know he loves me from the deepest cockles of his heart, from within the most intricate weaving of his beautiful mind, because i see it. i see it in every word he says, in every gesture he makes, in every expression subconsciously made, in every gaze behind the eyes. 

     

    and i love him so.  i do.

    i don't need jealousy to tell me that he loves me deeper in every undefinable way, than he loves her. 

    because i remember. i remember the words he says when he speaks of me, and more so, when he speaks of her.  when he doesn't speak of her.

Tuesday, 27 July 2010

  •  

    I can’t see the stars at night.  They glow, but I don’t know where my fingers are. I don’t know if I’m bending at the right edges, pinching them into even points, or if I’m wrapping them too tightly.  Every star gives my love form, shape, substance.  Every star is my way of making my affection, desires, hopes, hopelessness, care, worries, thankfulness, sadness…tangible.  Corporeal.  So when I finally hand them over, you’ll see my love, and when I leave, they’ll remind you of it, every night.

     

    i can't wait to give these to you.  hundreds of them, to live in the wine bottle we'll share from when i fly down to see you.

  • i got to see him before he leaves tomorrow morning for his 10 day vacation up in lubbock.  ksenia left for beijing yesterday for about two weeks.  it felt free tonight, with ksenia gone.  it didn't feel as if someone was watching over our shoulders.  just the knowledge that she didn't skype with him yesterday or today made our conversation feel that much more private, carefree.  i suppose her short absence simply allowed me to be under the illusion that i had him for myself.  of course, this is not true.  but it's always sweet to make believe, if only temporarily.

    i love us. i love how comfortable we are with each other.  the first ten minutes or so were just spent with me disassembling my canvas and him packing.  neither of us said a word, but simply kept each other company. i love how i could sit around in a bathrobe with ten clips in my drying hair, unshaven, eating a giant corn muffin, and carry on a conversation.  i love how through everything we do or don't do, say or don't say, he still takes the moment to tell me, "you look fantastic."  i like that.

    this is crazy. what we have.  but i will never stop being his friend, first and foremost, so i guess regardless of what happens (or doesn't happen) between us, we will always love each other in the deepest sense of friendship. 

     

    i have the sudden urge to record myself singing and post it on my tumblr.  exhibitionist tendencies gnawing at my ego again.

Sunday, 25 July 2010

  • you hate my box.

    not as much as i hate you getting married.

    my box is to protect me.  if i let you kiss me, let you hold me, let myself kiss and be held, the box becomes wide open.  when i leave you, when i come back here, with all the memories of that week with you, i'd have to summon enough strength to collect them and put them in the box, and close it.  because nothing is to become of the contents inside.  you're getting married.

    tonight when i walked along the quiet streets, sucking on my black, watching the smoke sift through the cool night air, i got mad.  why should you feel free to rail against my box when i'm trying my hardest to keep it from cracking, keep the contents from spilling out in a flood of uninhibited emotions. 

    but secretly i want to let go.  i want to rip the box open and free myself of all my constraints. i want to be with you the way i want you without thinking of the possible consequences, to myself, to you, to us. i'm scared i'd give in to it when i'm with you.  but i'm also exhilarated.

     

    you're making me laugh.

    i'm in a jollier mood.

    goddamn it.

  • i'm right.

    i will inevitably think of us, think about the things we went through. 

    picking up my sketch pad, i read the last three lines of what kev wrote about god and about me.  i just wanted to hurl the notebook across the room. 

    i think of it as my book of pain.  i try not to read what i wrote during that month.  skip to the blank pages, draw something.

    but my eyes inevitably catch a few words, and i find myself reading his last sentences.  then everything comes rushing back.  the anger, the hurt, the sadness in knowing that you couldn’t have done anything to make it better, make it go away.  you didn’t know how and I couldn’t teach you.

    anger, it’s a furtive thing.  you never know how much of it you have until you read a few words, think of a few memories, look through some old blog entries.  then you suddenly want to hurl things across the room, to scream, to break things, to hurt someone else.

    i wish i could look you in the face and tell you exactly how much of an asshole and idiot you were. are.

    i wish we never dated. i wish we never met.

     

    today i cried for the first time in weeks.  it was difficult, like trying to squeeze the last drops of juice out of a lemon.  only two tears rolled down my cheeks.  it felt unnatural. since when did i not have enough tears stored up? am i really turning robotic, numb?

Saturday, 24 July 2010

  • ripping canvas off of stretcher bars is a work out, indeed. i do enough of this, my arms could get some serious toning.

    pulling staples out from stretcher bars: very satisfying, almost therapeutic.

  • i want to meet my seeley booth. 

  • i will use tumblr to satisfy my exhibitionist tendencies.

    d wrote a fb status earlier. i'm sure he meant for me to read it, since i was conversing with ari through fb.  i haven't contacted him these last few days, he hasn't contacted me.  i hope he's not upset.

    i just need some time to get used to the feeling.  this new dull, disappointed, hopeful acceptance.

    4.35am.

    I can’t see the stars at night.  They glow, but I don’t know where my fingers are. I don’t know if I’m bending at the right edges, pinching them into even points, or if I’m wrapping them too tightly.  Every star gives my love form, shape, substance.  Every star is my way of making my affection, desire, hope, care…tangible.  So when I finally hand them over, you’ll see my love, and when I leave them, you'll be reminded of it, every night.

  • i still get that irritated feeling every time i see something that has to do with religion, particularly christianity.

    the more i think about how i've changed throughout my last relationship, the more i resent it, and sometimes even regret it.

    i try not to think about it.  i do, inevitably.

Friday, 23 July 2010

  • just finished bones. felt like crying. is it possible to truly fall in love with tv show characters? because i think i have.  the past few weeks are going to be ingrained in my memories as a period of time in my life that had a specific feeling, like the winter break i spent reading a series of unfortunate events curled up on the leather armchair by the bedroom window, or last winter break when kev and i woke up everyday after noon and watched wild china for the whole day.  those feelings of time and place are what hits me with nostalgia.  i cannot wait for the new series of bones to begin.

    turns out i won't be seeing eileen before she leaves tomorrow, unless of course i show up at her door at 7 in the morning, which i doubt i'd have the energy to do. who knows, if i stay up till 6 again today i might as well walk over and say goodbye properly.  really sad that we didn't get to hang out before she leaves.  upset that i didn't think to get her a goodbye present. it's like she's leaving for college all over again, except this time we won't even celebrate her birthday together, and she's missing mine for the fifth consecutive year.  c'est la vie.

    i don't think i'd want to celebrate my birthday next year.  i have a feeling it's going to be one of those years where i'll just take the time to relax by myself and accept that i'm another year older. i can't think of anyone i'd want to celebrate it with except for liza. a dinner, a show, and a sleepover.  that'd be perfect.

    don't know what's up with me lately, seems like i'm losing myself to everyone else.  i don't seem to understand who i am anymore, what i like, what i want.  just picked up carmex lip balm and grey nail polish today. ariana and katie.  drank a glass of wine tonight. not me.  stayed away from aim and skype. not me. didn't cry at the end of bones, although i thought i would.  not me.  want to get rid of paintings really badly despite the sentimental heart yanking away. not me.

    this is a horrible period of watching friends move on and not being able to do so myself.

  • A writer is a person who cares what words mean, what they say, how they say it. Writers know words are their way towards truth and freedom, and so they use them with care, with thought, with fear, with delight. By using words well they strengthen their souls. Story-tellers and poets spend their lives learning that skill and art of using words well. And their words make the souls of their readers stronger, brighter, deeper.
    - Ursula K. Le Guin

    i'd like to think that i adhere to this as much as possible. people who are careless with their words irritate me. immensely. and yes, i will be the elitist here and say that i respect people much more when they make an effort to choose their words carefully.

  • writing is the annoying friend that i'm being anti-social towards these days.  i think i need to stop beating myself over my lack of productivity towards grad school preparation and just take it easy. enjoy the summer, one day at a time. stop worrying about what i should be doing, and what i'm not.