so, i hope that by writing something without pressure i can get the words flowing again, at least enough to write my personal statement. the gravity of the situation, applying to graduate programs, is building and accumulating more and more stress and imminence. i have what feels like a million and a half things to do at school, what with research paper season on the horizon, my archaeological projects looming in the distance, and simple things like having to make my tutoring hours. the GRE is on monday and it honestly slipped my mind this weekend. granted, i was busy working on other things so it wasn't like i was idling, but all of this just feels like too much. there is never enough time in each day and i can't even think about being social - my 23rd birthday is on saturday and now it looks like i won't be celebrating at all. well, celebrating by putting together grad school dossiers, editing my writing sample and drafting my personal statements. how did all of this sneak up on me? i like to think i'm more on top of things than a lot of people, so i can't imagine how anyone else could manage right now. the one thing i'm looking forward to most at the moment is knowing that next semester it will be smooth sailing - just french, herodotus with dr. yates and a directed study of vergil with dr. sypniewski. the one time in my college career that i will be taking less than 18-22 hours and i will be taking 12. i can't even imagine what that will feel like...i guess a girl can dream after all.
right now, i'm in the process of typing out passages in greek for my seminar paper and crafting my own translations. sure, i can translate in class, but trying to put something onto paper that isn't translationese, that a normal, run of the mill person could get the sense of the meaning - now that can be a challenge. i'm four passages in out of eight, so i'm making progress - just very slowly.
what do i want to do at grad school? how can i articulate my goals? i suffer from shiny ball syndrome - i'll chase anything that catches my eye. i know what i want to do - to a point. first and foremost, i want to learn. well, that isn't really going to be an award-winning answer, but it is true. i want to know more, i want to see what else is out there. i've only seen a very thin slice of what classics had to offer and i'm ready to spread my wings a bit. nothing appeals to me more than the thrill of the hunt - finding an idea and chasing it down. sometimes it can be disheartening, sometimes someone else fifty years ago, six months ago came up with the same argument, but finding that space for the way my mind works around an issue...that is worthwhile.
i don't have any doubts about whether i will be able to handle graduate school, it is just a matters of getting there. if only i had more time - if only i hadn't put so much on my plate this semester. luckily i have great mentors that are helping me along the way, but it is still overwhelming. yesterday, dr. turkeltaub and i were emailing back and forth and i hadn't really realized how much i miss him. i'm glad to have an ally outside of millsaps and i'm glad he isn't here to see the slightly panicked look in my eye every step of the way. i'm so tired, so exhausted all of the time - my body just can't keep up with all my mind has to do these days. a big part of the problem is that i have run out of coffee here in the room and i haven't had time to one, go get coffee off campus or two, heaven forbid make it to the grocery store. if billy weren't in the middle of initiation week, i know he would go do it for me, but he is in the same boat (for the time being) as i am. i don't like asking people for help, but there is really no escaping it at this point.
some things are looking up - my finger isn't hurting any more and i have a whole store of arthritis cream to keep the pain at bay. i thought with the weather cooling off it would start to flare up again, but i've been lucky thus far. all of the online components are completed, except for my personal statements and writing samples at this point. i have all my transcript requests ready, so that is another plus - just have to get those cover letters in place. it feels like such a distant memory applying to undergraduate programs, it is hard to believe that i've been through a similar process before. it is a bit more daunting to say the least, and now that i'm older i understand the gravity and weight of every word, misplaced punctuation, forgotten bureaucratic nonsense (no staples, only paper clips - last name first, social on every page, whatever the little inane details may be).
what is most frustrating of all is that i don't have any peers to talk to about this. dr. s has become that peer in a lot of ways, but no one i know has applied to graduate school in classics. i recently decided to drop chicago from the list of schools i was applying to and simply trying to explain why i dropped that school is a headache. the politics of classics, the way programs work...i can't even say that "oh, well chicago is like michigan...they chew you up and spit you out." outsiders don't know what it is like, what i have to "look forward" to in my education. it becomes more arduous to discuss the process than it is to tackle it (says the girl sitting at a computer writing a blog). class in an hour, then hopefully employing my survey for methods and statistics.
instant coffee in hand, i'm ready to face this first draft.
Showing posts with label fear. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fear. Show all posts
expectation
08.04.2010
visingsö
really tired this morning - started working in an enormous series of clover fields with jess and tina today. i guess i'm not really going to be working with tom and gisela anymore. had special k red berries, apelsinjuice and coffee for breakfast, all of which wreaked havoc on my bladder come 10:30. walked over kumlaby church, hoping for a bathroom which luckily i found. i wasn't prepared to repeat the cow and a haystack incident in albania. long day of work, but nothing out of the ordinary. i'm determined to start biking more frequently, so i walked one of the two functioning bikes over to the cottage so that i could go for a ride after a cup of coffee. aimlessly fooled around on my computer - i'm really lacking direction today and i'm exhausted or thirty md. fifteen minute nap, read for twenty or thirty minutes, bringing me up to rivendell in the story, then had some much needed coffee. afterward, i went on a short yet vigorous fifteen minute bike ride which brought me back just in time to start dinner before the boys came over. not quite enough falafel for everyone, so i threw some sesame nuggets in the mix, but at least there was enough pita bread to go around this time. no more material to exchange with hans and it is really starting to feel like he is actually leaving soon - this will be the peak number of people here at one time. the turn over of workers and students and their staggered arrival and departure dates is a little odd, but the company is good while it lasts. read more after dinner and then pestered billy in hopes that i could hear from him before i crashed. yesterday really took it out of me - i don't know if it is psychological or physical, but either way i'm bearing a weight on my shoulders. i got a little upset (okay, more than a little) at billy - he didn't respond for a while, right until i was going to bed, his connection was shitty, and i was harboring resentment that he updated his facebook status and posted on nhc about getting the job at broadstreet without ever telling me! i helped him prep for his interview and everything and still i didn't merit a message or a tweet, something. i just miss the days where he would write or message me constantly, when i had constant reminders that i was on his mind - he is always on mine. yeah, we overdid it in the beginning, but now that we are back to long distance, at least for now, i just want to hear from him all the time - at least for the big things. sometimes a broken connection over skype isn't enough and it hurts my heart.
visingsö
really tired this morning - started working in an enormous series of clover fields with jess and tina today. i guess i'm not really going to be working with tom and gisela anymore. had special k red berries, apelsinjuice and coffee for breakfast, all of which wreaked havoc on my bladder come 10:30. walked over kumlaby church, hoping for a bathroom which luckily i found. i wasn't prepared to repeat the cow and a haystack incident in albania. long day of work, but nothing out of the ordinary. i'm determined to start biking more frequently, so i walked one of the two functioning bikes over to the cottage so that i could go for a ride after a cup of coffee. aimlessly fooled around on my computer - i'm really lacking direction today and i'm exhausted or thirty md. fifteen minute nap, read for twenty or thirty minutes, bringing me up to rivendell in the story, then had some much needed coffee. afterward, i went on a short yet vigorous fifteen minute bike ride which brought me back just in time to start dinner before the boys came over. not quite enough falafel for everyone, so i threw some sesame nuggets in the mix, but at least there was enough pita bread to go around this time. no more material to exchange with hans and it is really starting to feel like he is actually leaving soon - this will be the peak number of people here at one time. the turn over of workers and students and their staggered arrival and departure dates is a little odd, but the company is good while it lasts. read more after dinner and then pestered billy in hopes that i could hear from him before i crashed. yesterday really took it out of me - i don't know if it is psychological or physical, but either way i'm bearing a weight on my shoulders. i got a little upset (okay, more than a little) at billy - he didn't respond for a while, right until i was going to bed, his connection was shitty, and i was harboring resentment that he updated his facebook status and posted on nhc about getting the job at broadstreet without ever telling me! i helped him prep for his interview and everything and still i didn't merit a message or a tweet, something. i just miss the days where he would write or message me constantly, when i had constant reminders that i was on his mind - he is always on mine. yeah, we overdid it in the beginning, but now that we are back to long distance, at least for now, i just want to hear from him all the time - at least for the big things. sometimes a broken connection over skype isn't enough and it hurts my heart.
a beginning
07.17.2010
austin, texas
day one, sort of. i'm resolved to do this right and actually write. my heart is battling my mind right now it won't stop racing from the thermos of slightly watered down coffee i downed during the quiet, oddly serene drive to the airport, yet somehow i'm still only half awake. i can feel the askance glance of my neighbor burning into me...maybe that means i'm gaining my confidence back. not that i care about this guy, whatever his story is, but something about my vibe is making him pay attention. most of the time i'm so ill at ease that i try to blend into the walls, but today i feel comfortable in my own skin. i already have one regret rising - that i only brought this one slim volume to fill with my thoughts. so much is bound to happen from now until august 22nd, i don't know if these pages can hold it all. my hand is slowly starting to pick up momentum, fueled by a hazy mix of nostalgia, anxiety, and anticipation. as much as i want to be in chicago right now, it is time for an adventure, a chance to grow - a month to shake off the resentment and ill will. i'm no longer afraid of my research - i always do fine. if i want to stay afloat in grad school i need to stop doubting myself. maybe it is my temperament, or maybe it is a result of my upbringing but i am incapable of letting a day go by without doubting myself - maybe that doesn't always show, maybe people aren't as astute at noticing the slight hesitation that marks every word and movement, the subtle calculation of it all, but every minute of every one of my days is filled with some sort of misgiving. when i traveled last summer, i came back on top of the world, at the top of my game. how would things have been if i hadn't had that confidence? would billy and i have even talked? eastern europe opened my eyes in a very different way, but hopefully sweden will add another dimension to my experiences. i want to be interesting, a compelling character in my own life's narrative, but more importantly i just want to learn. what do i want to learn? everything. everywhere i look, something else catches my eye and diverts my focus. maybe it is stems from my own misgivings about my skills, my limits, but i get equally excited and terrified at every new intellectual stimulus, every new prospect. tell me how anybody thinks under this condition. it is still morning but it feels like i have yet to truly wake up. maybe once i'm in the air everything will start to shift into focus, but i'm not holding my breath or anything. i want to have a clear aim, a focus - not just on this page or in my mind, but in my life. what should my specialty be? why do i want to travel so badly? why can't my past experiences be enough - what keeps driving me? i'm a hypocritical mix of apathy and enthusiasm but something about the balance of the two leaves me perpetually off-kilter. i am a top that is slowly starting to bobble and i never quite know where i'm going to rest, stop this momentum. i like to think that i'm moving towards something, but even this entry is meandering around in time with my thoughts and emotions. i lack specificity, or perhaps i crave too much. am i making any sense? is anyone even listening? staring down my future, i'm scared to death but i want it so bad. i've never wanted a future before, never thought that my life would extend past this over-heightened, somewhat accelerated narrative arc that has already crested its denouement, but maybe i'm in for a cycle, not a single rise and fall. for once in my life i have true hope thanks to a charming boy who swept me off my feet and opened my eyes to reality, shook me from this self-constructed false sense of identity that i had been banking on. all bets are off, the future is uncertain in almost every regard, but now i know (whether or not he will continue to have me) what it is like to not be alone in this inconsistent, unpredictable, ever-changing milieu.
austin, texas
day one, sort of. i'm resolved to do this right and actually write. my heart is battling my mind right now it won't stop racing from the thermos of slightly watered down coffee i downed during the quiet, oddly serene drive to the airport, yet somehow i'm still only half awake. i can feel the askance glance of my neighbor burning into me...maybe that means i'm gaining my confidence back. not that i care about this guy, whatever his story is, but something about my vibe is making him pay attention. most of the time i'm so ill at ease that i try to blend into the walls, but today i feel comfortable in my own skin. i already have one regret rising - that i only brought this one slim volume to fill with my thoughts. so much is bound to happen from now until august 22nd, i don't know if these pages can hold it all. my hand is slowly starting to pick up momentum, fueled by a hazy mix of nostalgia, anxiety, and anticipation. as much as i want to be in chicago right now, it is time for an adventure, a chance to grow - a month to shake off the resentment and ill will. i'm no longer afraid of my research - i always do fine. if i want to stay afloat in grad school i need to stop doubting myself. maybe it is my temperament, or maybe it is a result of my upbringing but i am incapable of letting a day go by without doubting myself - maybe that doesn't always show, maybe people aren't as astute at noticing the slight hesitation that marks every word and movement, the subtle calculation of it all, but every minute of every one of my days is filled with some sort of misgiving. when i traveled last summer, i came back on top of the world, at the top of my game. how would things have been if i hadn't had that confidence? would billy and i have even talked? eastern europe opened my eyes in a very different way, but hopefully sweden will add another dimension to my experiences. i want to be interesting, a compelling character in my own life's narrative, but more importantly i just want to learn. what do i want to learn? everything. everywhere i look, something else catches my eye and diverts my focus. maybe it is stems from my own misgivings about my skills, my limits, but i get equally excited and terrified at every new intellectual stimulus, every new prospect. tell me how anybody thinks under this condition. it is still morning but it feels like i have yet to truly wake up. maybe once i'm in the air everything will start to shift into focus, but i'm not holding my breath or anything. i want to have a clear aim, a focus - not just on this page or in my mind, but in my life. what should my specialty be? why do i want to travel so badly? why can't my past experiences be enough - what keeps driving me? i'm a hypocritical mix of apathy and enthusiasm but something about the balance of the two leaves me perpetually off-kilter. i am a top that is slowly starting to bobble and i never quite know where i'm going to rest, stop this momentum. i like to think that i'm moving towards something, but even this entry is meandering around in time with my thoughts and emotions. i lack specificity, or perhaps i crave too much. am i making any sense? is anyone even listening? staring down my future, i'm scared to death but i want it so bad. i've never wanted a future before, never thought that my life would extend past this over-heightened, somewhat accelerated narrative arc that has already crested its denouement, but maybe i'm in for a cycle, not a single rise and fall. for once in my life i have true hope thanks to a charming boy who swept me off my feet and opened my eyes to reality, shook me from this self-constructed false sense of identity that i had been banking on. all bets are off, the future is uncertain in almost every regard, but now i know (whether or not he will continue to have me) what it is like to not be alone in this inconsistent, unpredictable, ever-changing milieu.
08.08.2009
Berlin, Germany
on the train again, and now it seems like this is the only time i actually find to write. there are these really nice spanish kids in my compartment with me, but at the same time they are really depressing me. i'm so tired of being alone, not just on this trip, but in life. i'm tired of the transient, impermanent nights that are punctuated only by regret. i wish i had someone to share my life with. yesterday at the hamburger bahnhof i had one of the lowest points of trip. unlike in copenhagen, this moment was inspired by a seemingly inane act, not a mounting, growing, inevitable breakdown. i was leaving the beuys exhibit to go upstairs to the rest of the collection and sitting on the stairs was this striking scene - a very attractive, thin, tattooed man (who reminded me a lot of cody)...a man out of my dizziest daydream, sitting with his wife and his daughter. nothing breaks my heart more than to see my ideal manifested right in front of my eyes.
i just had to take a break from writing, it was causing me to relive the moment and it was getting a bit overwhelming. i just lost myself for a moment in the passing landscapes until the monotony lulled me to sleep. as i started to close my eyes, however, the sun started to break from behind the passing trees and fields. i closed my eyes, despite the glare, and all i got were passing sun flares in my eyes learned i only see some memory but all i see is red small orange sunbursts that flash into my vision in frequent consistent intervals, constant flinches reminding me of the inevitable pain to come. my only choices were to either embrace the pain, or to open my eyes only to be blinded by the reality, or else to hesitantly avert my eyes right below the source, the blazing heat of this brilliant light, illuminating the days ahead of me. and what do i do? instead of choosing any of the above, i curtly excuse myself from this suffocating compartment to pace the halls and absorb the satisfying hiss of the opening doors between each new car
i swear it's different because i'm lonely. i can't stop listening to barcelona. there is something horribly haunting about them, but so poignant and beautiful. it is something about the pull between the sadness and allure of it all on the edge of night we look down. . . if we got back to start(stars) we won't need any money. what would it be like to be eighteen again? to just be worried about jim and alaric, moving away and resenting my family and direction in life, fretting about cymbal line, standardized tests and dorm shopping. yet, here are some eighteen year old kids from barcelona, living parallel lives halfway across the globe and they are traveling the world, or at least germany. i wish i had that. i really think i need to come to europe, at least after my post-bacc program. maybe do my masters in the uk? i don't know. i know it is just another excuse to run away and shirk off responsibilities, social or otherwise, break ties without goodbyes, it is always easier that way after all. i find a way to run away, but there really isn't any way to actually escape anything at the end of the day, just put off the inevitable.
overarching rules have told me not to think about 'who am i?'. . . i'm searching desperate this hole is getting deeper by the hour, my hands are bleeding, i spin around. . . you're nowhere my only plans are too tired to push me anywhere but down. . .so who am i?. . .i'm searching, i'm desperate.
on the train again, and now it seems like this is the only time i actually find to write. there are these really nice spanish kids in my compartment with me, but at the same time they are really depressing me. i'm so tired of being alone, not just on this trip, but in life. i'm tired of the transient, impermanent nights that are punctuated only by regret. i wish i had someone to share my life with. yesterday at the hamburger bahnhof i had one of the lowest points of trip. unlike in copenhagen, this moment was inspired by a seemingly inane act, not a mounting, growing, inevitable breakdown. i was leaving the beuys exhibit to go upstairs to the rest of the collection and sitting on the stairs was this striking scene - a very attractive, thin, tattooed man (who reminded me a lot of cody)...a man out of my dizziest daydream, sitting with his wife and his daughter. nothing breaks my heart more than to see my ideal manifested right in front of my eyes.
i just had to take a break from writing, it was causing me to relive the moment and it was getting a bit overwhelming. i just lost myself for a moment in the passing landscapes until the monotony lulled me to sleep. as i started to close my eyes, however, the sun started to break from behind the passing trees and fields. i closed my eyes, despite the glare, and all i got were passing sun flares in my eyes learned i only see some memory but all i see is red small orange sunbursts that flash into my vision in frequent consistent intervals, constant flinches reminding me of the inevitable pain to come. my only choices were to either embrace the pain, or to open my eyes only to be blinded by the reality, or else to hesitantly avert my eyes right below the source, the blazing heat of this brilliant light, illuminating the days ahead of me. and what do i do? instead of choosing any of the above, i curtly excuse myself from this suffocating compartment to pace the halls and absorb the satisfying hiss of the opening doors between each new car
i swear it's different because i'm lonely. i can't stop listening to barcelona. there is something horribly haunting about them, but so poignant and beautiful. it is something about the pull between the sadness and allure of it all on the edge of night we look down. . . if we got back to start(stars) we won't need any money. what would it be like to be eighteen again? to just be worried about jim and alaric, moving away and resenting my family and direction in life, fretting about cymbal line, standardized tests and dorm shopping. yet, here are some eighteen year old kids from barcelona, living parallel lives halfway across the globe and they are traveling the world, or at least germany. i wish i had that. i really think i need to come to europe, at least after my post-bacc program. maybe do my masters in the uk? i don't know. i know it is just another excuse to run away and shirk off responsibilities, social or otherwise, break ties without goodbyes, it is always easier that way after all. i find a way to run away, but there really isn't any way to actually escape anything at the end of the day, just put off the inevitable.
overarching rules have told me not to think about 'who am i?'. . . i'm searching desperate this hole is getting deeper by the hour, my hands are bleeding, i spin around. . . you're nowhere my only plans are too tired to push me anywhere but down. . .so who am i?. . .i'm searching, i'm desperate.
08.03.2009
Hamburg, Germany
so, today is yet another travel day. okay, i really haven't even travelled that much...i've only used two of my travel days on my eurail pass. i kind of feel like i need to play catch up now. yesterday was really hard...i really wanted to leave copenhagen, and the last few days have really allowed my mind to catch up with me, which is always a dangerous thing. after i left the cafe, i got coffee in the square at the end of strøget, which had my heart racing a little too fast by the time i was done. it's funny how your body can feel like it is moving so fast, like it is going to hit a brick wall at terminal velocity, while in actuality i am just sitting still on a bench in the sun, watching the people and pidgeons stream by at all of their various paces, nothing in tandem...just as my body is contradicting my mind and my pulse. i walked back to christianhavn, grabbed a huge (yet cheap) tomato øst and dressing sandwich from a small little side street, then went back to christiania, where this time i actually bought the bracelet i was looking for! i went back to nemoland, but the crowd was much older and slower since it was, after all, a sunday. i say down next to a couple of danes, but they weren't nearly as personable as renee and anas had been the day before. my dad called me as i was walking around, only to break the bad news about nanny. we talked about my books and loans for school, as well as the arrangements with john in berlin since he would be picking me up from the train station. as i hung up i was met with a short little stri lankan man, mike, who 'really wanted to take me out for a drink.' i couldn't really shake him though i was clearly trying to outpace him during the walk back to strøget, but i ultimately gave in and stopped with him at a very open and very public bar in front of the stork fountain. he was really offended when i insisted that he switch pints with me since he ordered up at the bar without me, but i'm glad i did it - better safe than sorry. he was really annoying, ignorant, and had very poor english, so i excused myself as politely as possible, only to find myself in the beginnings of a thunderstorm. found the hovedbibliothek, but it was closed since it was sunday, so i tried to find a use-it that was in my guidebook so that i could check my internet and blow time...but it was nowhere to be found. at that point, i only had about two hours until i was supposed to meet mathilde at the apartment, so i went back ot the station, and then headed back to valby. i watched the 2009 mtv movie awards on vh1, of all places, then took a nap, a shower, watched part of an RFK conspiracy documentary, and an episode of gossip girl, and then Mathilde finally made it back.
chat and cigarettes later, we started watching an old American movie, The Only One, from 1994, that happened to be starting while we were channel surfing. it was really good, but really depressing, and i had an utter breakdown. mathilde was crying about philip and i was crying about nanny, about being alone, about all boys, leigh, my inadequacy, the dread c word (hint, six letters not four). i don't stand a chance. i'm never going to be old, and i'm always going to be alone. i am nothing but a novelty that in some way resembles something more than average, but that never really amounts to anything. i had been running away from myself, hiding behind a mask of bars and happy hours, clubs and pub crawls, dresses and scarves, cafes and nicotine. a day of being idle in copenhagen, however, made it all come tumbling down. mathilde and i laid in bed trying to laugh and comfort through the tears, and eventually the endless mechanic hum of passing cars, and all the inevitable, undeniable motion and continuity of the world around me finally lulled me back into passivity, though my poor heart needed a bit more convincing. i woke in better spirits, or at least in denial. i know it should comfort me to know that i'm not alone in feeling this way, and that i should be grateful, one, that i picked myself back up for the time being, and two, i had mathilde there with me...but even my subconscious wasn't buying into it in my dreams. i can't help but feel like this is some kind of competition, that i should weigh my feelings and experiences against mathilde's own suffering, but i can't seem to establish the criterion, past and present factors, sliding scales and variables. at least she has had real love, or has a boy that cares enough to mistreat her. what kind of person am i for even thinking about these kinds of things? i know that i like to get at what is, what something means, what is going on behind - how it connects, compares, matters...but trying to rank my own shortcomings in terms of how another feels seems ...perverse.
while i can still remember - about my dream. i was working in a chemistry lab and i had to fly to see some people i knew. the airport screened for radiation and i was the only one who kept setting off the radiation detector, but they eventually just let me through (a la The Only One where the main character cries and begs until she gets her way). we got into the air fine, but the plane started to come down, so we made an emergency landing, but somehow it worked out in my favor and the next thing i knew i was at faubion, my elementary school, with all of my colleagues from millsaps and some elementary school friends, though they were all grown up. we kept doing our research, which was very reminisicient of the research i had done with kramer freshman year, and then someone realized that i had been the victim of radiation poisoning, so they told me to run to the nurse right away - it was my only chance. i sprinted through the halls of my childhood, once so familiar, and finally found the office, only to see that i was only jim chow filling in and there wasn't anything he could do. my interpretation of this dream? even if i had continued on with my original plan and had pursued chemistry, which would have led me everywhere (or anywhere) but where i am right now, i still would have been the victim of the same over-arching result, just by different means. even when i tried to run away, i ended up right where my consciousness emerged, back at faubion...trying to work my way through my current problems, out of context, helpless. way to fuck with my mind, subconscious, way to go. the whole dual radiation meaning...touche. i can't believe i'm still in such good spirits today after all that, and all things considered. maybe it is just because i am headed straight into something exciting, something i desperately want, instead of trying to assimilate into some kind of unattainable social circle like was happening here in copenhagen. well, all i can hope is that this glimmer of happiness continues to flourish and at least sustain itself, and me, enough to get me through the rest of this trip, back into the comforting arms of complacency and familiarity in the south. it is becoming increasingly difficult to write on just my lap in this moving train, so signing off...b.
so, today is yet another travel day. okay, i really haven't even travelled that much...i've only used two of my travel days on my eurail pass. i kind of feel like i need to play catch up now. yesterday was really hard...i really wanted to leave copenhagen, and the last few days have really allowed my mind to catch up with me, which is always a dangerous thing. after i left the cafe, i got coffee in the square at the end of strøget, which had my heart racing a little too fast by the time i was done. it's funny how your body can feel like it is moving so fast, like it is going to hit a brick wall at terminal velocity, while in actuality i am just sitting still on a bench in the sun, watching the people and pidgeons stream by at all of their various paces, nothing in tandem...just as my body is contradicting my mind and my pulse. i walked back to christianhavn, grabbed a huge (yet cheap) tomato øst and dressing sandwich from a small little side street, then went back to christiania, where this time i actually bought the bracelet i was looking for! i went back to nemoland, but the crowd was much older and slower since it was, after all, a sunday. i say down next to a couple of danes, but they weren't nearly as personable as renee and anas had been the day before. my dad called me as i was walking around, only to break the bad news about nanny. we talked about my books and loans for school, as well as the arrangements with john in berlin since he would be picking me up from the train station. as i hung up i was met with a short little stri lankan man, mike, who 'really wanted to take me out for a drink.' i couldn't really shake him though i was clearly trying to outpace him during the walk back to strøget, but i ultimately gave in and stopped with him at a very open and very public bar in front of the stork fountain. he was really offended when i insisted that he switch pints with me since he ordered up at the bar without me, but i'm glad i did it - better safe than sorry. he was really annoying, ignorant, and had very poor english, so i excused myself as politely as possible, only to find myself in the beginnings of a thunderstorm. found the hovedbibliothek, but it was closed since it was sunday, so i tried to find a use-it that was in my guidebook so that i could check my internet and blow time...but it was nowhere to be found. at that point, i only had about two hours until i was supposed to meet mathilde at the apartment, so i went back ot the station, and then headed back to valby. i watched the 2009 mtv movie awards on vh1, of all places, then took a nap, a shower, watched part of an RFK conspiracy documentary, and an episode of gossip girl, and then Mathilde finally made it back.
chat and cigarettes later, we started watching an old American movie, The Only One, from 1994, that happened to be starting while we were channel surfing. it was really good, but really depressing, and i had an utter breakdown. mathilde was crying about philip and i was crying about nanny, about being alone, about all boys, leigh, my inadequacy, the dread c word (hint, six letters not four). i don't stand a chance. i'm never going to be old, and i'm always going to be alone. i am nothing but a novelty that in some way resembles something more than average, but that never really amounts to anything. i had been running away from myself, hiding behind a mask of bars and happy hours, clubs and pub crawls, dresses and scarves, cafes and nicotine. a day of being idle in copenhagen, however, made it all come tumbling down. mathilde and i laid in bed trying to laugh and comfort through the tears, and eventually the endless mechanic hum of passing cars, and all the inevitable, undeniable motion and continuity of the world around me finally lulled me back into passivity, though my poor heart needed a bit more convincing. i woke in better spirits, or at least in denial. i know it should comfort me to know that i'm not alone in feeling this way, and that i should be grateful, one, that i picked myself back up for the time being, and two, i had mathilde there with me...but even my subconscious wasn't buying into it in my dreams. i can't help but feel like this is some kind of competition, that i should weigh my feelings and experiences against mathilde's own suffering, but i can't seem to establish the criterion, past and present factors, sliding scales and variables. at least she has had real love, or has a boy that cares enough to mistreat her. what kind of person am i for even thinking about these kinds of things? i know that i like to get at what is, what something means, what is going on behind - how it connects, compares, matters...but trying to rank my own shortcomings in terms of how another feels seems ...perverse.
while i can still remember - about my dream. i was working in a chemistry lab and i had to fly to see some people i knew. the airport screened for radiation and i was the only one who kept setting off the radiation detector, but they eventually just let me through (a la The Only One where the main character cries and begs until she gets her way). we got into the air fine, but the plane started to come down, so we made an emergency landing, but somehow it worked out in my favor and the next thing i knew i was at faubion, my elementary school, with all of my colleagues from millsaps and some elementary school friends, though they were all grown up. we kept doing our research, which was very reminisicient of the research i had done with kramer freshman year, and then someone realized that i had been the victim of radiation poisoning, so they told me to run to the nurse right away - it was my only chance. i sprinted through the halls of my childhood, once so familiar, and finally found the office, only to see that i was only jim chow filling in and there wasn't anything he could do. my interpretation of this dream? even if i had continued on with my original plan and had pursued chemistry, which would have led me everywhere (or anywhere) but where i am right now, i still would have been the victim of the same over-arching result, just by different means. even when i tried to run away, i ended up right where my consciousness emerged, back at faubion...trying to work my way through my current problems, out of context, helpless. way to fuck with my mind, subconscious, way to go. the whole dual radiation meaning...touche. i can't believe i'm still in such good spirits today after all that, and all things considered. maybe it is just because i am headed straight into something exciting, something i desperately want, instead of trying to assimilate into some kind of unattainable social circle like was happening here in copenhagen. well, all i can hope is that this glimmer of happiness continues to flourish and at least sustain itself, and me, enough to get me through the rest of this trip, back into the comforting arms of complacency and familiarity in the south. it is becoming increasingly difficult to write on just my lap in this moving train, so signing off...b.
07.30.2009
København, Denmark
so, i have been really awful about updating...surprise, surprise. all that i'm doing today, however, is writing. well, at least until i meet up with mathilde and go to this farewell party tonight. im going to try and recount the nine days since i left the states, but im not sure how well im going to do. first day in amsterdam...coffeeshop (easy times) and then checked into the hostel to leave my bag. then i wandered around museumplein, went to the rijksmuseum (high) which was really disappointing and way too expensive for what it was, then i went to the van gogh museum, which was worth every penny. the steidlijk museum (aka the bath tub) is undergoing renovations, so they temporarily moved two avant-garde modern art exhibits to the van gogh museum, the twenties and the sixities, which i adored.
then i went back to the room for a nap, met stephen and then we went out for a drink. we got a pint in leidseplein, then richard met up with us (note:this part is all repetitive if you read the journal entry from amsterdam) and we decided to head to soundgarden since they were supposed to be showing a movie, which was a bust, but the bar was good. oh, and we went to maos for falafel. yum. met his finnish friends, who were a bit mean, and then we went ot this kind of seedy, dark club. i'm realizing how that i have already written about this. oh well. eventually stephan and i made it all the way back to the hostel, then i crashed hard. i woke up in time for breakfast, somehow, and stephen and i agreed to meet up for dinner after i got back. he had to meet up with his new landlord and start moving into his apartment in amsterdam, so this was the perfect opportunity to go exploring. i walked to centraal station, then out past the windmill, then back west through spuistraat and bit further north behind centraal station itself. it was nice to just walk around and try to absorb the city. oh, i also went into st. nicholaas and found a really cool flea market. i'm really glad i did it, but by the end of the day my feet were dead. i had taken some time to rest in vondelpark before i headed back to the hostel, then stephen and i went to a chinese restaurant and i have some amazing teriyaki tofu. then i came back and stephan went to meet richard.
i got back to the room and was coerced into going on a pub crawl in the red light district with mathilde and daniel, whom i had met briefly that morning, and then we subsequently convinced ben and dimitri to come along as well. we got dressed, walked over to the players club in the red light district, where the crawl started, and lo and behold michael was there by himself, who was also staying in our room in the hostel! it was one big party. we got free jager shots at every bar and club we went to, and there was always some kind of drink special. i told myself i was going to avoid the jager, but who says no to free shots? i couldn't help but think of andrew and all those awful nights on the bus or in hal and mals, but it was fun. the third shot almost got me, but it was all downhill from there, and by downhill i mean a lot of good fun. ben was really into me, and apparently ranted and raved about me to daniel later, but i wasn't really looking for anything. mathilde and i ended up leaving the last club a little after four, and then we ran into zach and some random asian danish guys (i know, right?) at the tram stop. mathilde left with the asian guys (i never got their names!) and i went with zach.
i got to ride a bike in the traditional 'dutch way' and then saw some of the more authentic parts of amsterdam. i took the metro back at around eleven the next morning, showered, and went to the royal palace in dam square, after missing the free New Europe tour yet again. the palace was really cool and i loved all the mythological references and motifs. i walked around a little, and then went to dinner with daniel, ben and mathilde at a random italian restaurant near the hostel in leidseplein. ben went back to the hostel and then mathilde, daniel and i went to the bulldog (well, one of them) in the red light district, had a coffee, smoked, and then wandered around the canals and the western part of the city until around two, then headed back.
i finally went on the free tour the next day after moving to hotel anne-marie that morning. i walked through rembrandtplein for the first time, and then finally made it all the way to dam square. the weather was absolutely awful and i got horrible blisters from my tevas. after the free tour i tried, on a whim, to ring whitney at her hotel since i ended up near the train station, and she was there! we went to the grasshopper, enjoyed northern lights and then agreed to meet back up that night with sarah beck at abraxas if i didn't end up at matthias' birthday party with stephen. well, my phone stopped working and i think whitney's canal tour ended late, along with the fact that she was confused about where it was (not spuistraat but the street directly behind dam square down the street from the albert). long story short, she wasn't there when i got there. i got a fanta and then headed back to the hostel and fell asleep around one. woke up the next day and had absolutely no plan. whitney and i were supposed to meet up at one or two and go to the jewish quarter, so i had a few hours to kill.
i woke up late and headed to centraal station to get my reservation for the train to copenhagen, which took forever and was a bit frustrating. i had to go out of my way to berlin, and then back again. it all worked out in the end, though. after that i tried to get a hold of whitney, but i couldn't. i walked around waterlooplein, found another flea market, and then i decided to find a coffee to ward off the bad day and then go back down spuistraat. i wanted to take pictures of the things i had missed when i didn't have my camera on me the night before, anyway. i ended up passing a small bulldog that was a bit out of the way, and decided to stop for a cappuccino.
i ended up chatting with two americans who were also there, lily and chris, and we decided to spend the rest of the day hanging out. we went for more coffee and lunch at bagel and beans, then went to rokin to go shopping at the big h&m, where i bought a really affordable (and cute) red shoulder bag. we went for a pint on the canal after that, and then set off in search of the tapas bar that lily's friend works at. we found it eventually, and a few appetizers and more than a few pitchers of sangria later, the bar was closing. lily left with robin and chris agreed to walk me back to the hostel. i got back in one piece, and crashed, yet again. checked out the next morning and left my bag at the annemarie. i walked around waterlooplein and found a flea market, and then eventually made it all the way to jordaan, where i went to the anne frank huis. it was a much more powerful experience than i was expecting, and after that back to the annemarie, pack strapped on, one last internet session before leaving amsterdam.
tram to centraal station, only the second time i had taken transportation (other than one foot in front of the other) since i had been in amsterdam. got ot my platform with an hour to kill before the train left, made friends with an old, local man who offered me his beach house to use at my leisure, and then boarded the train in a bit of a stupor. i met two really cool guys, brian from the states and eric from rotterdam, and we spoke for a few hours, which was really more fun than i was expecting. eventually we pulled into berlin at 4:20 in the morning, in theory, which turned out to be 5 and i literally just caught my train to hamburg as it was pulling out of the station.
got to hamburg, transferred again to the train bound for copenhagen, and slept like a baby after my heart stopped racing from all of the trying to stay awake, get to the right platforms, compartments, and seats. i was more than a bit confused by the train/ferry thing on the last leg of the trip, but i got to copenhagen (in one piece) around 12:30 in the afternoon, but without a functioning phone. in panic mode, i start to go up the stairs to the main station to hear my name 'Brandi! Brandi!' because mathilde was there waiting for me! well, that brings me up to denmark, but my hand needs a break, so until the next coffeeshop...
so, i have been really awful about updating...surprise, surprise. all that i'm doing today, however, is writing. well, at least until i meet up with mathilde and go to this farewell party tonight. im going to try and recount the nine days since i left the states, but im not sure how well im going to do. first day in amsterdam...coffeeshop (easy times) and then checked into the hostel to leave my bag. then i wandered around museumplein, went to the rijksmuseum (high) which was really disappointing and way too expensive for what it was, then i went to the van gogh museum, which was worth every penny. the steidlijk museum (aka the bath tub) is undergoing renovations, so they temporarily moved two avant-garde modern art exhibits to the van gogh museum, the twenties and the sixities, which i adored.
then i went back to the room for a nap, met stephen and then we went out for a drink. we got a pint in leidseplein, then richard met up with us (note:this part is all repetitive if you read the journal entry from amsterdam) and we decided to head to soundgarden since they were supposed to be showing a movie, which was a bust, but the bar was good. oh, and we went to maos for falafel. yum. met his finnish friends, who were a bit mean, and then we went ot this kind of seedy, dark club. i'm realizing how that i have already written about this. oh well. eventually stephan and i made it all the way back to the hostel, then i crashed hard. i woke up in time for breakfast, somehow, and stephen and i agreed to meet up for dinner after i got back. he had to meet up with his new landlord and start moving into his apartment in amsterdam, so this was the perfect opportunity to go exploring. i walked to centraal station, then out past the windmill, then back west through spuistraat and bit further north behind centraal station itself. it was nice to just walk around and try to absorb the city. oh, i also went into st. nicholaas and found a really cool flea market. i'm really glad i did it, but by the end of the day my feet were dead. i had taken some time to rest in vondelpark before i headed back to the hostel, then stephen and i went to a chinese restaurant and i have some amazing teriyaki tofu. then i came back and stephan went to meet richard.
i got back to the room and was coerced into going on a pub crawl in the red light district with mathilde and daniel, whom i had met briefly that morning, and then we subsequently convinced ben and dimitri to come along as well. we got dressed, walked over to the players club in the red light district, where the crawl started, and lo and behold michael was there by himself, who was also staying in our room in the hostel! it was one big party. we got free jager shots at every bar and club we went to, and there was always some kind of drink special. i told myself i was going to avoid the jager, but who says no to free shots? i couldn't help but think of andrew and all those awful nights on the bus or in hal and mals, but it was fun. the third shot almost got me, but it was all downhill from there, and by downhill i mean a lot of good fun. ben was really into me, and apparently ranted and raved about me to daniel later, but i wasn't really looking for anything. mathilde and i ended up leaving the last club a little after four, and then we ran into zach and some random asian danish guys (i know, right?) at the tram stop. mathilde left with the asian guys (i never got their names!) and i went with zach.
i got to ride a bike in the traditional 'dutch way' and then saw some of the more authentic parts of amsterdam. i took the metro back at around eleven the next morning, showered, and went to the royal palace in dam square, after missing the free New Europe tour yet again. the palace was really cool and i loved all the mythological references and motifs. i walked around a little, and then went to dinner with daniel, ben and mathilde at a random italian restaurant near the hostel in leidseplein. ben went back to the hostel and then mathilde, daniel and i went to the bulldog (well, one of them) in the red light district, had a coffee, smoked, and then wandered around the canals and the western part of the city until around two, then headed back.
i finally went on the free tour the next day after moving to hotel anne-marie that morning. i walked through rembrandtplein for the first time, and then finally made it all the way to dam square. the weather was absolutely awful and i got horrible blisters from my tevas. after the free tour i tried, on a whim, to ring whitney at her hotel since i ended up near the train station, and she was there! we went to the grasshopper, enjoyed northern lights and then agreed to meet back up that night with sarah beck at abraxas if i didn't end up at matthias' birthday party with stephen. well, my phone stopped working and i think whitney's canal tour ended late, along with the fact that she was confused about where it was (not spuistraat but the street directly behind dam square down the street from the albert). long story short, she wasn't there when i got there. i got a fanta and then headed back to the hostel and fell asleep around one. woke up the next day and had absolutely no plan. whitney and i were supposed to meet up at one or two and go to the jewish quarter, so i had a few hours to kill.
i woke up late and headed to centraal station to get my reservation for the train to copenhagen, which took forever and was a bit frustrating. i had to go out of my way to berlin, and then back again. it all worked out in the end, though. after that i tried to get a hold of whitney, but i couldn't. i walked around waterlooplein, found another flea market, and then i decided to find a coffee to ward off the bad day and then go back down spuistraat. i wanted to take pictures of the things i had missed when i didn't have my camera on me the night before, anyway. i ended up passing a small bulldog that was a bit out of the way, and decided to stop for a cappuccino.
i ended up chatting with two americans who were also there, lily and chris, and we decided to spend the rest of the day hanging out. we went for more coffee and lunch at bagel and beans, then went to rokin to go shopping at the big h&m, where i bought a really affordable (and cute) red shoulder bag. we went for a pint on the canal after that, and then set off in search of the tapas bar that lily's friend works at. we found it eventually, and a few appetizers and more than a few pitchers of sangria later, the bar was closing. lily left with robin and chris agreed to walk me back to the hostel. i got back in one piece, and crashed, yet again. checked out the next morning and left my bag at the annemarie. i walked around waterlooplein and found a flea market, and then eventually made it all the way to jordaan, where i went to the anne frank huis. it was a much more powerful experience than i was expecting, and after that back to the annemarie, pack strapped on, one last internet session before leaving amsterdam.
tram to centraal station, only the second time i had taken transportation (other than one foot in front of the other) since i had been in amsterdam. got ot my platform with an hour to kill before the train left, made friends with an old, local man who offered me his beach house to use at my leisure, and then boarded the train in a bit of a stupor. i met two really cool guys, brian from the states and eric from rotterdam, and we spoke for a few hours, which was really more fun than i was expecting. eventually we pulled into berlin at 4:20 in the morning, in theory, which turned out to be 5 and i literally just caught my train to hamburg as it was pulling out of the station.
got to hamburg, transferred again to the train bound for copenhagen, and slept like a baby after my heart stopped racing from all of the trying to stay awake, get to the right platforms, compartments, and seats. i was more than a bit confused by the train/ferry thing on the last leg of the trip, but i got to copenhagen (in one piece) around 12:30 in the afternoon, but without a functioning phone. in panic mode, i start to go up the stairs to the main station to hear my name 'Brandi! Brandi!' because mathilde was there waiting for me! well, that brings me up to denmark, but my hand needs a break, so until the next coffeeshop...
07.17.2009
Washington DC
the smell of smoke and candles flood my senses as the reverberation of footsteps echo through this hall. this is the first place that all of these millions are receiving the silence and respect that they deserve. the only thing more appalling than the reality of this historical nightmare is the blatant disrespect that so many have displayed today when they should have been shocked and numbed into silence. the last few hours have been beyond words or descriptions, and the realization that these names raised on the walls will be concrete, physical manifestations, places on a map and marked in my memory is almost bringing me to my knees. these light, straight, unbending walls that surround me, enclosing me, give the illusion of an almost complete circle, past, reality, and future reaching fruition, a beginning and an end all in the same moment. but not quite. this octagonal memorial is simply an illusion, a representation, a wish of connecting the dots in an idealistic world. that maybe one day these events will truly be in the past, just pictures on the wall, words in a textbook, boxes in an archive. for now, however, they and what they stand for are much more important that that. maybe it will always be that way, but the inevitability of a comparable disaster lurks around every corner, in every dark alley of the world. the same mindless, commercially-driven, mass-produced mentality that degrades this museum into a hopeless tourist trap full of desperation to move on to the next exhibit, turning on an ipod in a memorial, complaining about the stench of thousands of shoes from people just like them, just a lot less fortunate. this kind of mindless, self indulgent puppet going through all these motions is what really makes this so terrifying. if they can't be lulled into humility in the face of this horror, what other atrocities will they allow or endure in their own lifetimes? what nightmares will their apathy breed? there will alwayts be monsters and demons lurking in our present reality, and there is no real way to distinguish between any other individual fighting their own personal 'dark passengers.' who will unleash these on others?
what is the difference between popular opinion and propaganda? only retroactive acknowledgment.
what feeds minds today may be discredited or interpreted differently a week, a month, a year from now. what are we willfully ignorant of? what is reality, and what is facade? who among us is capable of such things? there is no denying that such people exist, and these events are mirrored a dozen times over all around the world. the bravery of a few, the cowardice of many, the terror it should bring to all. . .it leaves my hands trembling, this pen's strokes barely capable of connecting to one another.
the smell of smoke and candles flood my senses as the reverberation of footsteps echo through this hall. this is the first place that all of these millions are receiving the silence and respect that they deserve. the only thing more appalling than the reality of this historical nightmare is the blatant disrespect that so many have displayed today when they should have been shocked and numbed into silence. the last few hours have been beyond words or descriptions, and the realization that these names raised on the walls will be concrete, physical manifestations, places on a map and marked in my memory is almost bringing me to my knees. these light, straight, unbending walls that surround me, enclosing me, give the illusion of an almost complete circle, past, reality, and future reaching fruition, a beginning and an end all in the same moment. but not quite. this octagonal memorial is simply an illusion, a representation, a wish of connecting the dots in an idealistic world. that maybe one day these events will truly be in the past, just pictures on the wall, words in a textbook, boxes in an archive. for now, however, they and what they stand for are much more important that that. maybe it will always be that way, but the inevitability of a comparable disaster lurks around every corner, in every dark alley of the world. the same mindless, commercially-driven, mass-produced mentality that degrades this museum into a hopeless tourist trap full of desperation to move on to the next exhibit, turning on an ipod in a memorial, complaining about the stench of thousands of shoes from people just like them, just a lot less fortunate. this kind of mindless, self indulgent puppet going through all these motions is what really makes this so terrifying. if they can't be lulled into humility in the face of this horror, what other atrocities will they allow or endure in their own lifetimes? what nightmares will their apathy breed? there will alwayts be monsters and demons lurking in our present reality, and there is no real way to distinguish between any other individual fighting their own personal 'dark passengers.' who will unleash these on others?
what is the difference between popular opinion and propaganda? only retroactive acknowledgment.
what feeds minds today may be discredited or interpreted differently a week, a month, a year from now. what are we willfully ignorant of? what is reality, and what is facade? who among us is capable of such things? there is no denying that such people exist, and these events are mirrored a dozen times over all around the world. the bravery of a few, the cowardice of many, the terror it should bring to all. . .it leaves my hands trembling, this pen's strokes barely capable of connecting to one another.
07.16.2009
Austin, Texas
fresh page, fresh start. i feel sick to my stomach, in the best possible way, but i still can't fight the ever-rising nausea. i am very grateful for the transition time in DC, and hopefully it will make the inevitable landing in amsterdam feel a little less surreal (if that is possible). i'm really not sure what the day, or the next month, has to hold for me, but a quick and rapid change is afoot, while my body tries desperately to keep up with reality. thirty pounds, even, on my back, but the luggage of the last two years alone is still almost too much to shoulder - which will take its toll first? will it be the physical exhaustion, or will it be the harsh reality of facing my own thoughts, unobstructed, outside of this convoluted, corporate machine of a country...home sweet home.
fresh page, fresh start. i feel sick to my stomach, in the best possible way, but i still can't fight the ever-rising nausea. i am very grateful for the transition time in DC, and hopefully it will make the inevitable landing in amsterdam feel a little less surreal (if that is possible). i'm really not sure what the day, or the next month, has to hold for me, but a quick and rapid change is afoot, while my body tries desperately to keep up with reality. thirty pounds, even, on my back, but the luggage of the last two years alone is still almost too much to shoulder - which will take its toll first? will it be the physical exhaustion, or will it be the harsh reality of facing my own thoughts, unobstructed, outside of this convoluted, corporate machine of a country...home sweet home.
sense and memory
rain. there are some things you can never forget. now let's take it back to january, a timid heart and open ended scene. five years. why is that so hard to grasp? small, fading flashes of light, water pouring down the windows, hands frozen at 10 and 2. terrified, persistent ringing, tires gliding. why does my heart stop every time it rains? walking back from dinner, smile on my face, phone in my hand. laughs and breaths mimicking the persistent fall, little beginnings and endings punctuating the space and air around me. the space between drops gets smaller and smaller, more condensed, and then the memory floods back, water passing under my feet. phone in hand, nervous. also waiting for a few words from a boy. this time i'm not in control, i'm not behind the wheel...i'm being shuttled ahead without any say and the buzzing of incoming news grows louder, more desperate with each minute that it doesn't come. then it does. the world keeps moving, but my mind does not. it is always the rain. the rain levels the field, eliminates the control, steals things that aren't meant to be taken. a life, one smile, another page in the story. i keep smiling for you. courtney. the way the rain permeates my skin, the same way it has sunk into us all. another laugh, another glance. increasing downpour, seeming to never diminish. courtney. at least the ghosts of the past linger here in the shadows, the sensations, all a part of the harmonious cycle of things that were, are, and will be.
its a picture of perfection
left rome today, now greece.
crete friday, island hopping tuesday through friday, back to rome, then off to berlin. maybe amsterdam at the end? depends on how late i can push back my flight.
anyone want to teach me german? that is the one thing that terrifies me...i at least had a little spanish/italian to fall back on, and i can at least read greek...what am i going to do in germany? yeah, yeah...most people speak english, too, but it is still kind of frightening.
til next time.
crete friday, island hopping tuesday through friday, back to rome, then off to berlin. maybe amsterdam at the end? depends on how late i can push back my flight.
anyone want to teach me german? that is the one thing that terrifies me...i at least had a little spanish/italian to fall back on, and i can at least read greek...what am i going to do in germany? yeah, yeah...most people speak english, too, but it is still kind of frightening.
til next time.
it makes me weak...
...thinking about how badly i want to be a part of this, and how badly i want all of you to be a part of this. if i didn't have two finals on monday, i would drop everything i'm doing and drive to one of these cities and be a part of the real deal. even though jackson is just a drop in the bucket, every bit counts...so please, please, please help make this event successful. this is SO much bigger than all of us, so get up, get out, make a difference.
Rescue Riders from Jason Russell on Vimeo.
thinking about all of this makes me cry. i wish i were exaggerating, but i'm not. i....i don't have words.
Rescue Riders from Jason Russell on Vimeo.
thinking about all of this makes me cry. i wish i were exaggerating, but i'm not. i....i don't have words.
we work to become, not to acquire.
this one quote inspired me to read more elbert hubbard quotes. here are some of my favorites.
----
A pessimist? That's a person who has been intimately acquainted with an optimist.
A retentive memory may be a good thing, but the ability to forget is the true token of greatness.
An idea that is not dangerous is unworthy to be called an idea at all.
-----
Art is not a thing; it is a way.
-----
He who does not understand your silence will probably not understand your words.
It does not take much strength to do things, but it requires great strength to decide on what to do.
It's pretty hard to be efficient without being obnoxious.
Life is just one damned thing after another.
----
There is something that is much more scarce, something finer far, something rarer than ability.
It is the ability to recognize ability.
----
Many a man's reputation would not know his character if they met on the street.
Never explain - your friends do not need it and your enemies will not believe you anyway.
Our desires always disappoint us; for though we meet with something that gives us satisfaction,
yet it never thoroughly answers our expectation.
-----
Responsibility is the price of freedom.
------
The happiness of this life depends less on what befalls you than the way in which you take it.
The only foes that threaten America are the enemies at home, and these are ignorance, superstition and incompetence.
A retentive memory may be a good thing, but the ability to forget is the true token of greatness.
An idea that is not dangerous is unworthy to be called an idea at all.
-----
Art is not a thing; it is a way.
-----
He who does not understand your silence will probably not understand your words.
It does not take much strength to do things, but it requires great strength to decide on what to do.
It's pretty hard to be efficient without being obnoxious.
Life is just one damned thing after another.
----
There is something that is much more scarce, something finer far, something rarer than ability.
It is the ability to recognize ability.
----
Many a man's reputation would not know his character if they met on the street.
Never explain - your friends do not need it and your enemies will not believe you anyway.
Our desires always disappoint us; for though we meet with something that gives us satisfaction,
yet it never thoroughly answers our expectation.
-----
Responsibility is the price of freedom.
------
The happiness of this life depends less on what befalls you than the way in which you take it.
The only foes that threaten America are the enemies at home, and these are ignorance, superstition and incompetence.
The recipe for perpetual ignorance is: Be satisfied with your opinions and content with your knowledge.
The teacher is the one who gets the most out of the lessons, and the true teacher is the learner.
----
There is no failure except in no longer trying.
---
The sculptor produces the beautiful statue by chipping away such parts of the marble block
as are not needed - it is a process of elimination.
Optimism is a kind of heart stimulant - the digitalis of failure.
-----
We work to become, not to acquire.
----
There is no failure except in no longer trying.
---
The sculptor produces the beautiful statue by chipping away such parts of the marble block
as are not needed - it is a process of elimination.
Optimism is a kind of heart stimulant - the digitalis of failure.
-----
We work to become, not to acquire.
don't pretend you'll ever forget 'bout me
i'm so dejected right now. that's my watchword. i'm very lonely, but yesterday was a good day, for the most part. i don't know, it was great, but the little bad bits kind of outweigh it all, i think. i wish the negative didn't have so much weight in my life. that's the problem, not the reality, but the burden. i have a lot to write, but for now i need to sleep. i kept my memo pad in hand yesterday, though, so i scribbled a few thoughts on the drive back in the early hours of the day.
made to measure
please excuse this,
i know its rude, but i was just trying to satisfy someone who requested mine.
you're hard to please, and no one knows just what you need.
if you wont ever ask for help then how am i to tell?
uncomfortable, you wear it well, the sooner that you come around,
the offer's waited to be found
anytime you need it, i am already there and waiting
what's yours is mine but your recline to hesitate to try
don't get me wrong herei just want to make my intentions clear
there's no room for reading into deep, if things aren't written down.
as soon as i've been told
that you will not be sold then we could all move forward here,
and find our endings well
you need a break
its hard to take the time
when things will just move faster and we're never ever slowing down
anytime you need it, i'm already there and waiting
what's yours is mine but your recline to hesitate to try
and after all the bullshit shuffled, piles up inside,
there's only room for you and me and what we've left to try
lately
it's hard to disconnect i just want something real .... or something like that. or maybe it's too real. or i'm can't connect. i don't know. i need something, though.
the best of me
----
tell me what you thought about
when you were gone and so alone
the worst is over you can have the best of me we got older but we're still young we never grew out of this feeling that we wont give up
here we lay again
on two separate beds
riding phone lines
to meet a familiar voice
and pictures drawn from memory
we reflect on miscommunications and misunderstandings
and missing each other too much
to have had to let go
we turn our music down
and we whisper
say what your thinking right now
tell me what you thought about
when you were gone and so alone
the worst is over
you can have the best of me
we got older but we're still young
we never grew out of this feeling that we wont give up
jumping to conclusions made me fall away from you
i'm so glad that the truth
has brought back together me and you
we're sitting on the ground
and we whisper
say what your thinking outloud
tell me what you thought about
when you were gone and so alone
the worst is over
you can have the best of me
we got older but we're still young
we never grew out of this feeling that we wont give up
we turn our music down
and we whisper
we're sitting on the ground
and we whisper
we turn our music down
we're sitting on the ground
and next time i'm in town
we will kiss girl
we will kiss girl
tell me what you thought about
when you were gone and so alone
the worst is over
you can have the best of me
we got older but we're still young
we never grew out of this feeling that we wont feeling that we cant we're not ready to give up
we got older but we're still young
we never grew out of this feeling that we wont give up
The Starting Line epic ending with "The Best of Me" at Bamboozle Left '08 from Gaille Chua on Vimeo.
when you were gone and so alone
the worst is over you can have the best of me we got older but we're still young we never grew out of this feeling that we wont give up
here we lay again
on two separate beds
riding phone lines
to meet a familiar voice
and pictures drawn from memory
we reflect on miscommunications and misunderstandings
and missing each other too much
to have had to let go
we turn our music down
and we whisper
say what your thinking right now
tell me what you thought about
when you were gone and so alone
the worst is over
you can have the best of me
we got older but we're still young
we never grew out of this feeling that we wont give up
jumping to conclusions made me fall away from you
i'm so glad that the truth
has brought back together me and you
we're sitting on the ground
and we whisper
say what your thinking outloud
tell me what you thought about
when you were gone and so alone
the worst is over
you can have the best of me
we got older but we're still young
we never grew out of this feeling that we wont give up
we turn our music down
and we whisper
we're sitting on the ground
and we whisper
we turn our music down
we're sitting on the ground
and next time i'm in town
we will kiss girl
we will kiss girl
tell me what you thought about
when you were gone and so alone
the worst is over
you can have the best of me
we got older but we're still young
we never grew out of this feeling that we wont feeling that we cant we're not ready to give up
we got older but we're still young
we never grew out of this feeling that we wont give up
The Starting Line epic ending with "The Best of Me" at Bamboozle Left '08 from Gaille Chua on Vimeo.
we see no shadows
i'm beyond depressed.
i woke up this morning at 8, ready to leave for class. made coffee, got dressed, did my hair, and as i was thinking about sitting in the caf, surrounded by people...even just the thought of food or maybe failing in class, making a silly translation error....i promptly took my vans back off and went back to bed. at least when i sleep i don't consciously think about how bad i'm fucking up my life.
woke back up with time to go to class, but didn't go. more sleep. mindless surfing on the internet, no music - i didn't even care enough to turn anything on. more sleep, then i woke up for lunch. i don't want to eat, the thought of food makes me sick, and i don't want to see people. i don't think i even have the energy to walk across campus to just grab kava and come back...and if i did, i wouldn't be able to stomach the food.
i have so much to do. reading responses that i still haven't turned it, part of a paper, endless translations...i need to start seeing this new doctor. i'm still training at a job i think i'm going to fail miserably at...and i panic every time i go in. i need to plan europe, so that i can apply for my loans and i can book my flight and get things squared away. right now, i would rather not be here and rather not be than actually work out those details. i have a scholarship i still need to apply for, but why put in the effort when i know i won't get it? i'm not extraordinary anymore, and i don't have the will to try.
i am stuck in the middle of a million situations trying to be passive in the affairs of my friends, but i end up getting pulled onto one side or another regardless of how passive i try to be. i try to please everyone, and as a result a end up pleasing no one.
i don't have a camera to go look around and try to capture something beautiful and ephemeral when i can't find the beauty in my own life. i have this large hole in my lip where my ring used to be which is a reminder of this past and this part of me that is gone, trying to heal but still present. my hands are shaking and i can't come down...or, rather, can't find which was is up.
maybe i should just go get coffee. what good is that going to do though? i know exactly what i would want, but the thought of it makes me slightly ill...i don't think i can keep anything down right now. and what if i do keep it down? it will just add countless unneeded calories, which i don't need. i've gained so much weight, my clothes don't fit right, and i'm not comfortable in my own skin...even more uncomfortable than i always am.
i don't see an end, and i don't see the light. i'm not strong, and everyone that tells me that is full of shit. i'm a hopeless mess with no future and a past that is far from respectable, and i don't know that i want to face the idea of a present any longer.
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