first thought: I’m starting to feel the shrooms now. I almost feel like writing my thoughts is stopping me from experiencing them.
The margins on this “note” format are irritating me. Maybe this means I’m meant to be a designer.
The age of the Internet is a pretty powerful tool for… And I’m gone now.
second thought: I’m trying to figure out my sense of… what’s the word… Hovering. You know what I mean? Not belonging; out of placement.. anyways: I’m trying to figure out where it comes from. I’ll be disappointed if there are multiple sources; I feel like that’s a cop-out. My potential options are:
A. Being an old child
B. Having mixed race
C. THE TRANSITION
D. … I think the underwhelming conclusion is that the answer is d. All of the above.
third thought: putting it together, I think my problem is I fell out of love. And I did so at a very bad time. And that’s sad.
fourth thought: I think New York is the most socially acceptable place to delay the completion of “the transition”. I don’t want to feel settled down in any sense, and New York is the only place that can give someone a permanent sense of unsettlement.
Also, I’m aware of just how possibly self-obsessed it may sound to only be thinking about being in the transition, but
secret dream job: pr/brand consultant for a record label or bands. how amazing would it be to share a part in curating the visual identity for someone like.. local natives.
or a movie stylist. you know what? I’m really talking about Art Direction. I want to be an art director.
You taught me not to apologize. And so many other things. But tonight I am glad you taught me that.
i can’t enjoy the Pilot episode of The OC because Trey is a different actor. That is all.
new years resolution is to be fit as shit. fit. as. shit.
I hate social media. I hate that I use it as a crutch when I feel alone. Everyone just wants to feel loved, in the end. We all want and deserve to feel special. But I’m having trouble finding the patience to allow myself to be satisfied with just myself, and only then allowing myself to love another person. I just want to love someone else all of the time and have them know it. It’s much easier for me to feel content that way. Is this a world-wide consensus? Or am I just in denial.
I light a candle and let it burn all night. It feels so good to sleep with something warm, but in the mornings when I wake up it makes me sad. The flame is still lit, sure, but the allure is gone. It is morning again, the sun is up, and my loneliness is made much more apparent through the streaming morning light.
So I don’t sleep. I close my eyes for only a few moments. I cannot pretend that I am content. I can’t lie to myself enough to fall asleep. I’m not buying it. “You’re not fulfilled,” I tell myself as I force my eyes wide open again. “You may feel moments of happiness, but you are not at peace.” And maybe Lena Dunham is right, and I just have to accept it. But for now I will fill the void with exercise and good food. But no sleep, not for now. Not ‘til I don’t have to light the candle at night.
Well, something I feel about being in your 20’s […] It’s sort of impossible to get through your 20’s without – it’s like if you ask a girl in her 20’s, ‘Are you a happy person?’ I think she can say, ‘I have happy moments,’ but I don’t think it’s possible – maybe I’m – maybe people will radically disagree with me, but I don’t really think it’s possible to be sort of an at-peace human when you are between 22 and 30.
-Lena Dunham, Here’s The Thing