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26
May
2/25 —> 5/25
today was foggy at first, but then the wind came, and blew away some of overbearing whiteness of the sky. and there was blue underneath. and it was warm. summer will come again.
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i know i posted the last one on fb, but it just seems weird now. i’m not supposed to look at these pictures anymore, and i don’t. but it has been three months since this, and i’m a creature of habit. it’s funny how three months can change so much. funny how places that were friendly three months ago are now just…empty. i felt detached today. sometimes, i wish i hadn’t been so insistent on following him on that train. but i can’t help my hormones— i’m a girl, and girls get attached. and i think coming to terms with that has made the irrationality a little easier to understand. because i get upset with myself too, and i ask myself why i can’t just let it go; why i can’t just treat him like he’s treating me? but the overbearing white fog is starting to lift. it is. some days are harder than others, but the trend is definitely up.
happy graduation today, brian. wish i could have been there to celebrate it with you. hopefully this means less late nights and eating oatmeal like an old man. we would have been getting artichoke pizza this time three months ago. nomnomnom.
wishing you the best,
elocin -
1989
26
May
batch of bunniez. he bought me one, but i never ate it because it was so perfect.
also, i guess my birthday wish this year and countless 11:11 wishes aren’t coming true, but i was never one to believe in miracles anyway. just fate. the world is small though.
It’s a Coup d’Etat! Hand Over the Contents of the Kitchen!
Thanks, Rosemary!
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25
MayWhat doesn’t kill you makes you stronger
Stand a little taller
Doesn’t mean I’m lonely when I’m alone.
What doesn’t kill you makes a fighter
Footsteps even lighter
Doesn’t mean i’m over cause you’re gone -
25
Maynot quite as dark, but yes. keeping with the theme of angsty and sad on this blog :P.
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And you can see my heart, beating
Now you can see it through my chest
Said I’m terrified, but I’m not leaving
Know that I must pass this test
So just pull the trigger -
1
25
Maynew york musings
a light mist of rain fell from the dark sky as i dragged my suitcase along the uneven pavement, headlights casting long shadows on the wet ground. it was just enough to be refreshing, but not enough to drench. it felt like a renewal of sorts. there’s a certain spirit of careful observation and steady calmness that traveling on one’s own brings.
while sitting at the airport today, three people stopped by to ask me if i could borrow their phones, and i obliged, happy i could help out in some small way to make their lives a little easier. i fell asleep on the subway due to exhaustion, and a man’s voice woke me up, asking me which stop i was getting off at, telling me that he would wake me up when i got there. i put my head back down on my backpack, but came to, a couple stops later. i could see him observing me out of the corner of my eye, as i pretended to stare intently at the poster of subway riders hanging across from me. it was clear he wanted to chat, and i was no stranger to stranger conversation. i asked him what he was reading; he flipped to the cover. i forgot what he said— something about preparation for the future by reading GQ. he asked why i was so tired, and i asked him where he was going. we held a pleasant conversation about swing dancing. when my stop came up, there was a slight pause, as there always is when a conversation between two strangers comes to an end. we encounter many people in our daily lives, but we never get to know most, if any of them, and this is especially true in big cities. i always feel compelled to exchange contact information, if for the sole purpose that i feel like i made a connection with that person, at that point in time, if only once in my life. a woman asked me if i needed help with directions while i pored over the subway map, trying to remember to places i’d been, and simultaneously trying to forget them, because many were visited with a boy who no longer talks to me. a woman helped me with my suitcase up a long and wet flight of stairs. i’ve never known new yorkers to be so nice, but they were. maybe it has something to do with the bright yellow jacket; a ray of sunshine in a sea of dark hooded figures.
i wonder whether new york makes people hard— whether it makes people tough and defensive on the outside, when on the inside, they are emotion-filled, caring creatures, yearning for connections in sea of anonymous faces they encounter every day. i think some people don’t actually care though; rather, they tell me that they don’t care. i don’t ever want to be hard, yet i fear that i am inevitably forced to make the decision to do so. i don’t want to be, though.
i walked down the street, remembering the smelling scentsation that is new york on a weeknight: garbage bag atop garbage bag on the side of the road, people in suits and people with partners, rushing here, and rushing there. there is a certain mustiness to the subway, where one feels as though they are barely breathing, the combination of summer heat and stagnant air overtaking regular patterns of inhale and exhale. one smells people as they walk by— their perfume, their personal musk. even new york garbage has a certain smell, one that i cannot describe, but know when i encounter. many things are like that though: can be recognized, but cannot be described. i walked past a sushi restaurant i’d encountered a friend in on the off chance last summer, and in these instances, the streets of new york become a puzzle, and i attempt to connect the places i’ve been with other places i’ve been, placing everything on the grid that are the streets which make up this city.
having tested my hunger for the day, i walked into chipotle. here, the words “things have a way of coming full circle” came to mind. i saw a man in a white uniform, the crest of a bald eagle on his hat, and i immediately knew where he was from. it was the reason i had booked tickets to get into new york so early, so long ago. i ordered my burrito, a giant at-least-three-pounder with extra guacamole, and proceeded towards the exit. a face caught my attention, but recognition is a weird thing. my brain didn’t recognize him, but my memory did. this was someone i used to talk to on a daily basis for over a year. this was someone who suddenly disappeared on me without any reason i could fathom. i had already said hi though. my mouth had automatically issued the courtesies without my brain even sending the command. i sat down. i knew the girl he was with, and we proceeded to fill in the words for a proper conversation, though we both perceived the blanks. when the girl he was with left for a moment, he said to me, “i’d like to catch up sometime, if that’s okay with you”. the words “if that’s okay with you” repeated themselves in my mind. “if that’s okay with you.” a year and a half ago, i had pleaded with him, through my shaky internet connection in beijing, to tell me what had gone wrong, and why he no longer wanted to talk to me. his gchat boxes stopped showing up in my gmail after that though, and he never explained. we ran into each other at a dinner hosted by mutual friends last summer, and he earnestly seemed to want to talk, but i didn’t anymore. he had cut me out of his life, and had expected me to wait until he could come to terms with his anger, or sadness, or whatever it was. but i didn’t wait, and i gave him curt, cold replies over a dinner of hot, spicy sichuan food. is it okay with me? i said yes at that time to be cordial, but i don’t know whether i should. the human part of me says yes, but my logic says no. i find myself the at the beginning of this situation repeating again, but this time, it’s with a boy i once loved. it’s ironic that the close of one episode happens at the beginning of another. “things have a way of coming full circle”. if only. if only, if only, if only. if only my heart could let go like it did with the guy friend, it would make life so much easier. but love is a strange beast i have not yet learned to tame, though i have figured out the equivalent of providing it with treats.
it’s nearing one thirty am in new york now. the back of my head is beginning to hurt and it feels like my eyelids are being forced close by some invisible force, but my hair is still wet. it’s time to sleep though. time to get into more trouble tomorrow. time to do something that i still don’t yet understand, but feel compelled to do tomorrow. i just hope it doesn’t hurt too much. and i wish things could be different. good night, new york. time to put the leftover burrito back in the fridge and figure out when to wake up tomorrow. i didn’t sleep last night. my mind wouldn’t turn off, but it’s been that way for months now.
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in other news, doug’s line has changed from “as a future cognitive scientist” to “as your husband”….
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620
25
MayRadford Wallis
I would have so much fun taking pictures with these (like pretending to be cut in half by the scissors or wearing a shirt with a pink stripe and laying down next to the giant highlighter). Also, I love Stabilo Boss highlighters.
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1
24
May9 hours at the airport
…and counting. finished editing fi’s essay, doing pre-work work, reading news, and let three random people borrow my cell phone. hope that whatever goes around, comes around.
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3
24
Maythis should be a more widespread viewpoint. too many women are hurt because they end up blaming themselves for being in those situations, and it’s made worse when people aren’t there to support them, or worse, doubt them and their actions. i support you, lauren! i wish the world could see how hard this can be and learn to see things differently.
i’m glad someone finally had the courage to speak up. because this happening even once is once too often. because it does real damage.
Recently, feelings have been resurfacing in my life. Talking about the lines between rape and sex with people, ive begun to think again about how shitty the societal viewpoint is on sex and rape. Rape isn’t just the helpless woman in heels that’s forcibly violated in a dark alleyway on her way…
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1668
23
May
this. this is what i should be. because RS is right. where is my self-respect, and why should i wait for you?
Jenny Han, It’s Not Summer Without You
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1237
23
MayPaper cut out letters: Each word, each letter is cut out intricately with precision by Annie Vought.
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awwww damn, my parents sent me this. yeah, that made me feel really tiny.
