get it on.
how do i follow up the break-up post? how do i ease back into happiness when the last tone i set was sad and nostalgic? its a daunting task. but i am doing swimmingly... i blame "maturity and knowing when to let go." i am often surprised by the person i have become... and the changes that continue to occur in me. its quite fascinating... sometimes i am depressed by the habits i have adopted and the emotions i feel. but other times, i am so enlightened by certain changes that it makes my bad qualities seem more bearable.

completely unrelated... i have recently pasted a certain quote on my wall...

"For beauty is nothing
but the beginning of terror,
which we are just able to endure,
and we are so awed because it serenely
disdains to annihilate us.
Every angel is terrifying."
~Rainer Maria Rilke


stunning, no?

your hands. my face.
fuck you for having to decide about me. fuck you for not appreciating me. fuck you for all the times a piece of music distracted you from me. fuck you for the times you didn't call. fuck you for thinking i was somehow going to be a waste of your 20s. fuck you for all these things and more.

what i take...
- the way you fiddled with your hair
- your pout and whimper
- the way you always needed your back scratched and your hair pulled
- how warm and soft you always were
- the way you begged for me to not leave the bed in the mornings
- certain compliments... "you should just never wear clothes. you look so much better naked."
- the way we fucked like teenagers in the back of my van
- over winter break... i don't think i ever felt so sexually frustrated. our phone calls were torture.
- the sufjan concert. it was one of our first dates... on our way to a party after the show... when we bought a bottle of wine and drank it together in that alley. we talked about how our signs weren't compatible... ironic how you turned out to be the emotionally unavailable one even though i'm the aquarius.

looking back at all the past tense is making me cry. i'm going to miss all the things we never got to do. but this is the healthiest decision for me.

and so i begin the slow process of moving on...

tell me what i gotta lose.
you know i'm bored and uninspired when...

20 years ago I...
1. was two.
2. was following my mom around the house.
3. was an only child.

10 years ago I...
1. was still a gymnast.
2. was walking home from school with andrew.
3. had braces and was in the midst of my worst ugly phase.

5 years ago I...
1. was preparing to go to Italy. (i think?)
2. was spending most of my time in a garage getting high and playing 007 on nintendo 64
3. fell in love for the first time.

3 years ago I...
1. moved to montreal.
2. was stagnant.
3. gained weight.

1 year ago I...
1. had a crush on a saxophone player.
2. went on a roadtrip to new york.
3. felt secure. again.

So far this year I...
1. have fallen in and out of love... and am currently hoping to fall back in.
2. have decided to really pursue photography.
3. have been motivated.

Yesterday I...
1. couldn't sleep.
2. spent three hours planning a video shoot.
3. felt lonely.

Today I...
1. walked to school singing.
2. played a soccer game.
3. was disappointed... again.

tomorrow I will...
1. inevitably be frustrated and lonely.
2. go for a run outside.
3. write a japanese test.

In the next year I will...
1. graduate.
2. enjoy a summer in montreal.
3. learn how to be less lonely. why is it so hard for me?

i'll get along...
well i am listening to music again. joanna newsom no less. i am in a weird state. possibly due in part to my wicked hangover. i lay in bed for 4 hours this morning/early afternoon... staring at the ceiling and letting my thoughts roll around... while trying not to irritate my aching self. i am restless. i don't want to finish this semester. i know we all say that... but today, i found myself contemplating the pros and cons of actually not finishing. i'm feeling stuck here. and its bothersome because no one is actually holding me down. i could go.

i'm kind of scared of my feelings. i am feeling cruel. i feel alone. and something about this feeling... its not right. i'm not feeling "lonely"... i'm feeling alone. i'm feeling brutal. i'm feeling too honest. pessimistic. realistic. i'm feeling like i could kill your kitten with my bare hands.

i hope its simply a side effect of residual vodka... i'm thinking its not. jess told me the other day... you know those feelings you get? the ones that you convince yourself are in your head... or don't actually exist? the ones you blame on having a bad day... the ones you blame on pms... the sinking feelings you tell yourself you are only imagining... those feelings. you know. well... jess told me that these feelings... instincts... they're usually spot on.

its a scary thing.

plus...
i know something is wrong. because i can't bring myself to listen to music. for me... thats a sign. a sign that i don't want to think or feel anything. because i am scared of what i will think and feel.

just drums.
i think we are entering a dangerous place. a place that is starting to get to me. it is not as great as the other place. in this place, i can see past you. there are some big problems with us. or rather, some big problems that i am finding with you. you can't comfort me when i'm feeling insecure. you never say the right things when i am feeling uninteresting, boring, or uninspiring. i am starting to listen closely and only hear "you're so beautiful" and "i want to fuck you." i don't know if you have ever told me that i'm funny... or interesting. i'm sure you think it... but i'm starting to feel like i fulfill one thing for you... and really, i don't think you need me to be interesting. you have music for that. maybe its getting to me. you aren't all the things i thought you were at first. you can be really cold and then laugh about it... some things you say sound so different to both of us.

i wonder what it is about me. that tells me to pull people closer when i start to feel like i don't want them near me anymore. its like instead of dealing with my disillusionment... my... inevitable falling from being enamoured to being so-so... i just pull the person closer to me and feel like THEY aren't holding ME tight enough. does this make sense? like... i don't really know if i want to be holding them at all... but that feeling usually has me squeezing them and wondering why they aren't as enamoured as i'm pretending to be.

bob dylan and boobs.
i downloaded a ton of nick cave... and all i can bring myself to put on is old bob dylan.

funny how inconsequential my academic life is with regards to my mood. this semester, when i am perhaps the least busy i have been in my godknowshowmanyyears of school... and i feel just as content. perhaps more so. i don't need academic success. i don't need to be producing papers, researching, reading course packs... to feel good. i know this is a simple observation... and may seem like it is a universal truth... but i'm not so sure it is. for me, it is reassuring. reassuring that when my life as a full-time student comes to its inevitable end... i won't be at a loss. as long as i am doing other things.

tonight i was photographed for a friend's project... its such a strange thing to have someone in front of you with a camera... you feel like you need to produce something special for them. and then you realize, that you can't. you can only stand there. as yourself. you can move how they want... you can attempt to aestheticize your parts and glances... but when it comes down to it... you have a limited toolbox, so to speak. and for me... i perhaps struggle to perform for cameras. for her, i hope she gets what she needed out of the shoot... for me... i pushed some more boundaries. and they were easier to break than even i expected. and i reflected on my body and my own feelings of sexy, etc. and i think... i liked the setting. i liked her idea. it was simple. feminine. it was my body. my body as i feminize it. i hope my "performance" was good enough for her. is it silly to be self-conscious about that? photography is crazy i tell you.

it ain't me babe.
go melt back in the night
everything inside is made of stone
there's nothing in him moving
and anyway i'm not alone

you say you're looking for someone
who'll pick you up each time you fall
to gather flowers constantly
and to come each time you call

a lover for your life and nothing more
but it ain't me babe...
it ain't me you're looking for babe.