May 2012
29 posts
It feels good to finally try at guitar again, to learn something new by accident, to make the attempt of being creative and try to create. It makes me feel whole to sing again—along, around, and harmonize, too (or at least try to). And it feels like home to write again—I mean, to dictate, arrange, or whatever the right word is.
I’ve had an art that needed practice and I’m...
Kalis: Trinidad, who are your best buddies?
Karen: I'm sorry, I don't really know what you mean.
Kalis: Who are your friends? Who do hang out with?
Karen: I don't really know. People, I guess.
2:46 AM Thoughts: I’ll bring a Sharpie instead of a stapler tomorrow/today. I’m sorry, everyone; I don’t have the time or the mentality. Today was definitely worth the trouble, but I hope to God the trouble wasn’t that much.
Month of May,
I’ve been honest to you, even more honest than June of last year. Please end well.
I’ll never say that I’ll never love, but I don’t say a lot of things. And you, My Love, are gone.
I promise not to promise anymore.
Wherever you are, I hope you’re safe and looking to the moon as it shines a light to guide you home.
I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I was too late.
3/47.
They see failure, abnormality, confusion, depression. They see everything (what we are) except who we are. They don’t understand, and they’re not trying to.
But it doesn’t matter how much we try to fight them. As much as it hurts me to say it, and as much as it kills me to believe it, they’ll always win. They have to because we depend on them. If they win, then perhaps we...
I don’t have any expectations; I’m just trying to learn who you are.
I don’t feel like it. I’ll do it later. At another time.
1/47.
You’ll never understand people of intuition. You think too much and feel too little.
Unfinished books: Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, Kafka on the Shore, This Side of Paradise, The Beautiful and Damned, 1984, and Crome Yellow.
I can’t seem to finish any book I start anymore.
This whole awards night made me sick, and pretty angry.
Now I understand why Seokho refuses to go to these things.
When you think the night has seen your mind, that you’re twisted and unkind, let me stand to show you that you’re blind.
Because I see you.
I keep thinking about writing those yearbook letters I always do. I should really start those.
But last year, I got really depressed writing them.
Solution: write HAGS in everyone’s yearbook.
Wanting is what children do.
They leave, and I love them more.
Every day, I read and re-read my drafts, the words that I typed out intending to post, but never actually did. And finally, I’m sick of reading them over and over again. I thought of deleting them, but I’d rather just keep them to remind me of how much I’ve grown or developed or whatever—even though the words I write down don’t mean much to anyone, or the way I write...
Everything’s bitter like sweet things should be.
So sweet heartkiller.
I’ll write you a symphony of sound, and I’ll rearrange the songs again, so this mix would burn a hole in anyone.
But I’ll hope it fills the hole in you.
Avery Slay.
When school starts becoming bearable again, you know it’s time to leave.
I.B. testing begins tomorrow, good luck everyone.
“Communication is too alarming. To enter into someone else’s life is too...”
– Harold Pinter.
End of April notes:
1. I’m gonna pass Calculus! 2. I guess I should start writing everyone’s yearbook letters. 3. One more month.
April 2012
50 posts
The world does not know us, and what we will be has not yet been made known.
I guess the only time I really sing is when I’m at church. The songs are easy and pretty simple, so there’s room to experiment, and that’s always fun. The choir’s not bad either, so I like to pretend I’m a part of it. And sometimes I find myself singing my heart out because in some ways...
“To the future or to the past, to a time when thought is free, when men are...”
– George Orwell. 1984.
“I’ll never get used to anything. Anybody that does, they might as well be...”
I’ve been too distant to feel like I was a part of it. You told me I should have been though, that I should have done what they’ve done to become a part of it. And I wanted to. But I didn’t because I thought I was better off (I don’t mean that I was better than any of you, because I know I’m not). Sometimes I feel like I should be happy that I haven’t done what...
Cheers to happy and depressed.
You just left everything and everyone. You thought no one cared that you left your apartment and all it’s contents, and your poor cat without a name. You left it to him, and he cares for your cat without a name because it’s the only thing he has left of you, to make you real again.
Because he loved you, you see? He belonged to you, and you to him. You were real to him, though a real...
To do: 1. Send Intent to Enroll. 2. Pay tuition & housing deposit. 3. Graduate.
Yeah, the window seat’s alright.
She's losing it.
I think I could help her out, but the girl’s got a lot to be mad about.
“Anyone who ever gave you confidence, you owe them a lot.”
It feels like this world has been growing slowly upside down.
Why is the sun out so much?
You are too young to put all of your hopes into...
Could you send my letter away?
After I run away, betray, am afraid, a mistake, and broken.
Happiness is not for keeping.
What scares me the most is that it’ll come so suddenly. I wish you could have written an ending without sorrow.
You are not suffocating under it anymore. The bell jar hovers over you, and you sense it too. I hope you do everything you can to keep it from trapping you again. Even if you don’t agree, your body is determined to stay alive.
