My cat does not like fancy schmancy cat toys. No brightly colored french ticklers for her. Though I'd like to buy her fancy toys. My animals are simple things, they like balls of aluminum foil, soup bones from the actual soup, not this packaged chitterlings and gravy gourmet shit. well, the cat does, but like me she is a professed hypocrite.

My mum brought home supply of large cardboard boxes. I have set up one and placed it on the ground. My cat has come over, staring at the box as if it held the answer. She meows at me, twitches her tail. What's in here, she seems to ask. She jumps in, jumps out. paws at something invisible inside. She will get bored, leave, then return.

If I could only get that excited about the mundane again, or find that the mundane is not mundane but all that we really need in life.

Lo, I stand again on that dreadful precipice.

A million things to do, love. Finish that visa app., I've to move out of this room. Finally getting that wood flooring I dreamed of, but to what purpose? I shall look at that lovely shade of oak for two months and then the dreary modernist interior design of city university dorms for 5 months.

Hotel rooms, airbus cabins, taxi cabs, sticky bus vinyl floors, cement, tile, linoleum, department stores, sweet Hong Kong grass, mysterious Chinese sand. Lo! I stand again on that dreadful precipice, where shall I go.

In an effort to blow steam.

I have deduced that Alex, while a nice guy, has some anger issues, and does not like people.

This is probably why he dresses the way he does, and is an angry little white boy.

Man, when men are angry, they are really vicious. They needs to chill out.

Dilemma. Hardfest is sold out EVERYWHAR. Why.

And mother even let me go. SHE EVEN LET ME GO HOLY HELL.

It is only after I find tickets that I will find someone to cover for me at work. This is so I will not lose any money or sleep.

Haaaaa. Life works itself into funny situations.

I am without prose today.

Prof. Simoni made me feel like an idiot.

All my professors do.

Why am I doing so poorly? Gambatte!

It's like wandering through a desert and coming back upon the same, gnarled skeleton half-buried in the sand. Over and over. I keep crying but it is like pouring tears on a rock, useless, nul.


My coughs taste like blood.

Sigh.

I've a hollow in my heart, and the wind whistles through, and I am cold.

So life is equal parts exciting and happy and also terrifyingly sad.


I am on the verge of breaking up with Emmanuel.

I don't want to stay with him if he is going to be the same man.

I want to stay with him if he is willing to look at me like I am a human being.

If he is willing to treat me like a human being.

But alas there there is a puddle of cool, still water at my feet in which my reflection peers up at me and says, "Lo, he shall not change."

I've been sad and hurt so many times that this last fight has been like hacking at dead wood. I feel none of it. But when he called me just now and spoke to me genially, I started crying.

I feel so at odds with myself. It should just be easy, like buying beef at the market.

I never imagined having to slaughter the damn cow.

Actually spoke with Mike today in language lab. He has rounded eyebrows. *nod*

He's a pretty cool down-to earth guy. I'm very jealous of his ability to travel everywhar. For example, he is going to China in November to visit his girlfriend.

I wish Emmanuel could do that if I was in Hong Kong.

Correction lads and ladies that is now when I am in Hong Kong. I got accepted :D Now it's just paperwork and those kinds of formalities.

I hate this cough. I can't wait for it to go away so I can go back to the gym. :(

Haven't spoken to Emmanuel in two days. He called me back this morning and we spoke for a little. I thought he was mad at me but he says he wasn't. It was awkward; probably because he was sleepy. I let him sleep.

I think I'm starting to find myself.

Well, I don't really agree with the idea that you're finding yourself just because of the fact that you're making more friends.

That's like saying I am nothing without the right group of people around me. Undesirable thoughts.

But I am feeling happier since I've been making friends with the int'l studies people.

The guy who looks like a Persian Heath Ledger is named Trace and on closer inspection doesn't so much look like Heath Ledger as he does a kind of maybe Asian Heath Ledger with some kind of Jewish thrown in. He is German as well as Swiss and has a profound German nationalist brewing in there somewheres. Fond of black v-necks and jeans, like Emmanuel.

I can't even think about Emmanuel right now. I can't even think about him in a warm cuddly way, much less sexually or critically. I just... can't think of him at all without conjuring up these wounded feelings.

And about what, I don't know.

Maybe it's a profound weariness? Maybe I'm just sick of this shit.

Dreamed up a shrug made out of soft green wool. Perhaps it should be felted, or no, just with chunky grass-green yarn. It would have gathered puff sleeves with a princess collar and and curvy rounded shapes. Matching green enamel buttons. There should be little bobbles on it, maybe some border panels with curling shapes. Haa.

It's these kinds of thoughts that keep me sane, that keep me floating like a lily pad above all the mud. I've been meeting all kinds of wonderful people, and it's hard for me to think that I am anybody all that special.

Cookie is this amazing girl, and I feel a bit cowed in her presence. She is of the earth, and I am a whisper in the grass. She stands firm, her and all her youthful girth radiates warmth like a cliffside in the sun. I really like her. I feel stupid around her though.

Had debate with Ali about conforming to the system and what it meant to be educated. He said to stop comparing ourselves with others and making judgments on people based on our own standards. We argued because I told him he was wasting his time at the University if he wasn't showing up to tests in Chinese class, to which he responded he didn't care.

Maybe I should stop comparing myself to other people. I most certainly am. Sitting in I/ST 200 is like going to an intellectual beauty pageant in which Mike is the perennial Miss Universe and everyone else is a spinning twirling galaxy and I, I am a dust mote, I am a hydrogen atom dissolving into protons and electrons and back again. I am not even stable enough to remain whole at any one time.

I am the semblance of a whole. I want to fall apart at this table right now. My dignity, like a weak magnetic field, shakes me, tells me to pull it together, man. We've not weathered the worst of this storm.

In other words, I feel useless.

Yesterday met beautiful spirit named Annie while I was hanging with Dave at his usual place. Met a girl named Amanda who seemed very young and already had a daughter aged 3. Met tall person named Collin who was fun. Met even funner person named Matthew who was just a riot and I suspect gay.

Annie sang for us "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" and made the whole of my day. She varnished my day with a color of sunshine, the color of her voice. She sang with such a classic and pure voice, as if Audrey Hepburn or Judy G. herself was singing to us, like a sparrow song.

But the heavy rain of insecurity and sorrow washed that happy color off my day and by the end of the night I was depressed and sullen yet again.

Will there be no permanent happiness for me? The more I delve into something, the more I find that I have accomplished nothing at all.

Why do I hate people so much? Was it because I was raised in loneliness, and now I shall flounder in it? LIFE LIFE LIFE you are si dur.

sonic youth- superstar

don't you remember you told me you loved me babyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy~~~

baby baby baby baby baby~~

lalala.


everytime he fucks it up i love him a little less. and one day it shall dwindle to nothing, and it will hurt less than shaving my legs to leave him. one day.

and yesterday i loved him so much it hurt.

and i will repeat myself everyday, like a mantra for independence. and it shall go on and on and on.

i'm hurting so bad right now. i don't know what to do.

fuck it fuck it fuck it, man.

i wonder if all relationships are like this. or if it's possible to be with somebody and just be chill and whatever about it all. not like completely anal about every fucking detail.

or if like rusting gears it always winds down to a cold brittleness. a glass etching held above the ground at great heights. and etc.

Wondering if I should get more into this blogging thing. I need to get a new camera, one that is small and portable, which will allow me to document things more easily, ie. take camwhore pictures wherever possible.

I lost 5 lbs. since that first Gogol concert. Am currently devising way to convince Mum that all I need to lose weight is more concerts and clubs. Unexpected leverage.

Currently feel like I was in a fight with a crowd. Like a whole crowd. Like a mass of arms and legs jumping and bumping together, crashing on my limbs. An old bearded man elbowed me in the crown yesterday during Gogol's spirited rendition of Harem in Tuscany, but it was all in good fun. I love that about these kinds of shows. You could fall on someone's breasts and they'd just shrug it off. YAAAY breasts.

Now must slake thirst with something, anything. Who's in town next, where else to go. Despite the obvious limp in my poor foot, and the aching in my arms and the small of my back, I am invigorated.

That's such a good word. Invigorate. To imbue with life. To make lively. To make alive.

I am made alive with this music. I am made alive, and I look forward to doing things. Yes yes yay.

AHHHH HELLO PEOPLES OF THE WORLD.

Everytime Emmanuel says something disparaging I love him just a little less. And yet everytime I see him and everytime he kisses my forehead my love for him is renewed. Yesterday he was very beautiful, and I was happy to be with him.

At first I believed he loved me more than I loved him. But the tables have turned.


This does not invigorate me.

i am so sick. :( can only hope to enjoy today. sorely wished i was in the best of form, but alas. feel fuckin' awful. what else can you ask for eh.

lallalalalalallaalallalalalallalala. i wrote a poem, but am loath to post it, as i am scared to shit of having my shit copied. oh oh plagiarism. people will stoop to no lows, i tell thee.

dadadadadadadadafd ddaaadaadadadadadadadadadaaaa da da.

so excited to see gogol again today. everything else is secondary.

hopefully emmanuel will not be asshole today. will sorely dampen spirits.

the grass is growing. how exhilerating and exciting, the study of the mysterious birth of things. no wonder children are so precious. what curious a thing is growth. oh oh oh.

calmez-vous calmez-vous. j'ai mal au coeur.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

j'ai mal au coeur. quelqu'un, aidez-moi. aidez-moi. mon coeur tombe quand il doit voler.