Finishing books.

I started a few at the same time and I just knocked down the last one of the group...the easiest and most exciting one to get through, I must say. That is because it was a Carol Goodman. A page turner with substance. An addictive read with rich characters, deep betrayals, and historical, literary, and other intellectual reference. I love her. I love her books. I love her metaphors. I LOVE her ridiculously thorough skills at parallels. I love page turners that don't have you hiding the cover ashamed by the young adult name splattered on the front (hahah...stiiilllll love it).

Ahhh...okay I had to get that out of my system. I was just so satisfied with that book.

I guess for that portion you can say my title was quite literal but I have planned an entry with a bit more substance and a bit less self indulgence. In that sense the title has more metaphorical reasoning.


I'm not one for ideas of fate. Things that are meant to be. Destiny. Or as Kundera puts them, "fortuities" -- things that seem to fall into place because they're supposed to.

And I discuss this in the context of finding someone or falling in love because it seems to be the easiest but this concept is just as crucial in anything else. Health. Career. A car accident on the freeway.

Sometimes things happen in such a way that we can only think, "Well it must be!" We force ourselves into this romanticized state of believing that all the stars aligned and the forces of the earth exerted in such a manner for this particular series of events to happen in this exact manner, just for me, just for the sake that this was my destiny. Or if you choose to think this concept is not self centered, that this happened to fulfill the exact destinies of all humans.

As tempting and wonderful as these thoughts are and as delightful is the place these thoughts take you to--it's a crock of shit.


"We all reject out of hand the idea that the love of our life may be something light or weightless; we presume our love is what must be, that without it our life would no longer be the same; we feel that Beethoven himself, gloomy and awe-inspiring, is playing the "Es muss sein!" ("It must be!") to our own great love.

Tomas often thought of Tereza's remark about his friend Z. and came to the conclusion that the love story of his life is exemplified not "Es muss sein!" (It must be so), but rather "Es konnte auch anders sein" (It could just as well be otherwise)."


Now before I explain, don't judge this observation incorrectly. I'm not a pessimist. I love romance in every sense of the word. I love whimsical thoughts and moments. Astrology, as bogus as a large part of me thinks it to be, still fascinates and interests the hell out of me. I read into silly signs and I enjoy practically unreal and light as a feather musings. BUT, above it all is a solid sense of reality.

All that nonsense is for my own personal entertainment, an inside joke between me and my imagination. But when I come down from that whimsical high, I see that it is my own will that is going to get me to this--whatever this may be. If I meet a wonderful guy, I'm not going to say if it's meant to be, it'll happen. I know it takes doing something. And if it doesn't work, I won't leave it to bad luck or even the comfortable acceptance that it wasn't supposed to happen and that's why it didn't. That's denying what life is. That's sitting back and not doing anything because you think this cosmic concept of destiny will set the course of your life. It's an excuse for laziness, fear, and denial of the real reasons.

I'm a proud and faithful believer in something "up above," a monotheist, a Muslim. Now the most important part of that sentence is the word believer. I don't care from what part of the world you come. I don't care what you call yourself and I don't care what name you give to what you believe in. (Well, I do because I love to discuss religion and I find different philosophies on faith interesting but in the context of this post, I don't.) The whole point is believing there's something more than what we know exists on this earth, a source of all life, a source of everything. I call that God, or if you prefer Arabic, Allah. Now, along those beliefs, there is a part of me that refers to God when things seem to happen too perfectly, or things seem to happen too terribly to just be bad luck. I do believe things happen for a reason. But I don't believe that reason is fate or something predestined. I think of it as a nightmare is to the concept of dreams--it's your subconscious screaming at you to listen to it, observe, think and act. Just apply that awareness to real time. That's as extensive as my realistic romanticism goes.

I can't stand it when people let it go any further than that and waste their life because they believe whatever their lives are going to go though is already set--it allows you to not take any responsibility for how your life goes because you believe it was set by something else, against your own will, that you were born into this course and destiny or fate or Jesus (or whatever you believe) is taking the wheel (damn I hate you Carrie Underwood but I couldn't resist). It allows someone else to take the fall for your actions, regardless of whether they be positive, negative, or even a lack there of, WHICH I can't fucking understand or tolerate (I smell a strong hit at Christianity in the air....)

It's like finishing a book. What you have easily started wont finish itself. It takes time. It takes commitment. It takes the will and action to say, "I'm going to sit down and get through this and after I put forth that effort to get where I know I need to get to, I'll be satisfied with closing this loose end whether it was a great book or something merely mediocre."

Pieces of a puzzle fit each other perfectly but they only come together if someone makes them so.

Just as you take my hand
Just as you write my number down
Just as the drinks arrive
Just as they play your favourite song
As your bad mood disappears
No longer wound up like a spring
Before you've had too much
Come back in focus again

The walls abandon shape
They've got a Cheshire cat grin
All blurring into one
This place is on a mission
Before the night owl
Before the animal noises
Closed circuit cameras
Before you're comatose

Before you run away from me
Before you're lost between the notes
The beat goes round and round
The beat goes round and round
I never really got there
I just pretended that I had
What's the point of instruments
Words are a sawed off shotgun

Come on and let it out
Come on and let it out
Come on and let it out
Come on and let it out

Before you run away from me
Before you're lost between the notes
Just as you take the mic
Just as you dance, dance, dance

Jigsaw falling into place
There is nothing to explain
Regard each other as you pass
She looks back, you look back
Not just once
Not just twice
Wish away the nightmare
Wish away the nightmare
You've got a light you can feel it on your back
A light you can feel it on your back
Jigsaw falling into place

On my mind.

Bjork


My cuddle buddy.


Current addiction.



Concert next Saturday.


La mia vacazione alla sud sporca. [My vacation to the dirty south.]

Rediscovering Beirut.

The music. Not the city.

Although I would love to go to Beirut...but first I would go to the homeland: Syrian feasting and adventures followed by a train ride to the other homeland. Turkish delights. Turkish coffee. And a summer love with a gorgeous Turkish man.

Ahh I smell unrealistic day dreaming romanticism in the air....

It's the instrumentals of the music I tell you! See what it does to me!

Feedback.

I can't decide whether it's a good thing or bad thing. I know it's always good to hear critiques and opinions on what you create because you never know what will come out of it--both good and bad, critical and enlightening.

But I think sometimes I rely on it too much. I can't be totally satisfied with some things I make until I've heard what people think. I'll always be unsure of it. I either need reassurance that it is great or thoughts on how I can make it better.

At the same time, in certain instances, I believe in unobstructed, raw work--whatever just happens to come out of the creator. Of course an artist can never be detached from his or her surrounding; an artist can never be completely isolated. An artist only exists and IS because of the surroundings, because of what has created him or her.

See? I always go back and forth. In one instance I should have confidence in my work. But in another, I want--no need--to hear what people think. I never want to be caught in a position of being stuck in my own world of thinking I'm always amazing without question because, well I've known people like that and I can't stand it. But I also hate self deprecation, the tortured artist; it's annoying as tits.

I'm getting nowhere with this.

Stop.

Reevaluate.

I've never ever in my life thought in the context of polar opposites, so I ask myself, why am I doing it now? I always take a little of both, mesh the extremes in one colossal mixing bowl.

It isn't a matter of depending on opinions or shutting out opinions.

It's a matter of writing down, drawing, or putting together whatever it is that comes my way, letting the people and the public see it as they may, receive what they think and continue making, improving, changing on your own terms of thought, regardless of whether or not that thought is entirely your own or modified by what you have heard. A balance of being in your internal world but connected and open to the external world.

It's one of my favorite visuals of life: a never ending continuum of one existence within another. Like in Horton Hears a Who where Horton carries around the entirety of Whoville in a little spec and its the connection between the two (the mayor whom everyone thinks has gone mad, and the giant elephant carrying the town around on his trunk) that keeps both worlds going, keeps them both curious, interested, and able to see themselves in the presence of something else.

TANGENT: This is also a visual that reminds me of one of my favorite Eddie Izzard bits. It's on mad cow disease. "We found they went mad. Because they were fed cows! They're supposed to eat grass. Yeah remember that? Cow eat grass? But they were fed cows. One cow was fed to another cow and that cow was fed to another cow, that cow was fed to another cow, and just like the Russian doll thing. Instead of a herd of cows, you had ONE HUGE ZEPPELIN COW... WHO WAS MAAD! And then that farmer filled that cow with helium and took it to market on a string....just to show off." Haha.....gets me every damn time.

You can only keep your sanity by letting both exist and finding your own healthy and successful balance between the two. And it's not to say that there aren't people who have been successful and renowned geniuses of math, science, art, literature, etc. by choosing to do completely what they think and shut out the external opinions, or the other way around. I just think getting anywhere in those extremes is very rare these days.

Now, I think I'm going to watch clips of Horton Hears a Who on youtube.

Overs.

I have so many thoughts in my head and absolutely no time to write them all down. It's still a month before school starts and I'm already neck deep in the things I have to do for the Panther re-design. What the hell have I gotten myself into? The only thing keeping me up is the fact that every bit of it excites me.

I have so many blog subjects rolling around in my head....divorce, disappearance of friendship, amongst other stuff I've observed while people watching lately. Until I get that all sorted out, enjoy the lyrics from one of my all time favorite songs.



Why don't we stop fooling ourselves?
The game is over, over, over

No good times, no bad times
There's no times at all
Just The New York Times
Sitting on the windowsill
Near the flowers

We might as well be apart
It hardly matters
We sleep separately
And drop a smile passing in the hall
But there's no laughs left
'Cause we laughed them all
And we laughed them all
In a very short time

Time
Is tapping on my forehead
Hanging from my mirror
Rattling the teacups
And I wonder
How long can I delay?
We're just a habit
Like Saccharin

And I'm habitually feelin' kinda blue

But each time I try on
The thought of leaving you
I stop
I stop and think it over

Some things just pop into my head for no good reason.

cough cough
hack hack
being sick is just a pain in my back
literally

An old subject.

My timing is off
But sometimes that's how it all works
Believe it or not
We don't have a choice in matters of the heart
Just gotta be brave enough
To love and let yourself - be loved

-Eels

--------------------------------------

"So do you have a boyfriend?"

"Nope."

"Have you ever been in a serious relationship?"

"Nope."

"You've never had any sort of relationship?"

"Nope."

"Wow, really?"

"Yup."

[silence, while a smirk cracks my facial expression]

"I've never even had my first kiss."

"What!? Hah, that's bullshit. No you're totally lying."

"No. No I'm not. I swear, I never have."

"How old are you?"

"20."

"No way...hahah that's crazy. So why do you think that is?

--------------------------------------

People never believe the truth about me

When I hang out with friends, they often talk about mutual friends who have issues of being with people--people who are messing up current relationships or are with the wrong person all because they're afraid of letting it all out on the line or of losing control--and I'm thinking...I feel as though they're talking about me. They're going off about how terrible the things this friend is doing and all I can do is stand there quietly too ashamed to say I understand, too vulnerable to the opposition I get when I finally defend the girl because I get what she feels. And it isn't because I have been in relationships and have done that--it's because I haven't been in a relationship and fear doing that. I fear being afraid. It's a fucking stupid conundrum.

Or maybe I'm just afraid of even getting to that point. I don't want to appear weak. I don't want to show I'm falling for someone when I don't know if they're falling with me

I'm not afraid of letting someone in. I am 100% ready for all of that. I want someone to show every bit of myself to and I am very confident and comfortable with becoming close to someone. I'm not afraid of that if I know what I'm doing is for and with the right person--right meaning both right at the time and/or right for life.

What I am afraid of is being mistaken, of doing all those wonderful things with someone who just wanted to fool around with me or just wanted to be friends or is just a friendly guy that never really had any interest in me.

I'm afraid of looking stupid.
Of looking weak.
Of being pitied.
Of not having the upper hand.

But I never show it.

I just come off as the shy girl or the girl that wasn't interested. Thus, my current predicament in life: never having anything with a guy.

All of this is strange to admit because I don't know how people will take it. I don't want guys to think there's gotta be something off or wrong if that's the truth. She's never had a damn thing before. What's the weird catch with this chick?

I don't think that's the case and I kinda resent that line of thought. I think that should/could be true of girls who HAVE been with many. I don't know why people seem to be scared or uninterested when it comes to me. They should be scared of the girls that can't seem to make something they have work.

I think I would be an awesome girlfriend. Maybe I just need to be better at getting people to see that or believe that.

In a way, I'm actually really thankful it's been this way for me. The idea of my happiness lying in the hands of someone else scares and disgusts me. I think that not being involved in something all these years has made me into someone that knows how to be happy on my own with what I DO have, instead of being happy only with the one thing I don't have.

The one thing I am glad about is that I can confidently say I haven't given up and I don't ever want to give up despite all these discouraging thoughts--despite my current extremely "inexperienced" (for lack of a better word. I really hate how that sounds.) position in life/love.

--------------------------------------

HE is an ART

you need this wrench

i'm bad at this...the tool is complicated

you need to wrench it tighter. you're not doing it right.

i told you i'm bad at this

no, pound the H in. it's sticking out. and look at the R. it just needs a small tweak. the E is slightly off, see? where the hell is the T? what did you do with the T? it's not even there. you're not even trying. at least you've got the A right...it could use a little more.

i can't i can't do it.

just try it again.

it doesn't make a difference. i can't fix it. i can't wrench it. i can't affect it. see? look how it just sits, just as it was. not changed at all. it's just the same as it has always been. just the same as it has always been.

but it was just hanging in the balance. i saw it myself. it was succumbing, falling, bending with your hard work.

oh that? that's temporary, an initial response. happens all the time. i thought it was a sign of success the first time too. but you have poor experience in my line of work. it's just normal. not a sign of anything. it's steady now. look--fully balanced.

try to keep that imbalance next time. you can't just sit back and let your hard work go back to where it started. push it over, make it fall for you. you have the tools. it's easy.

i can't. i push. i pull. i pound. i try. nothing happens. it's fruitless. no reward for my efforts. only punishments. i told you. i'm bad at this.

oh--well....you're doing it wrong. look there's another one. never been wrenched or tweaked before. as good as new. knows nothing of what to expect. easy to fall. simple to break. try this. take this wrench. it's better. turn it into something beautiful.

but i'm afraid. nervous it won't work. these tools don't make for beautiful things when in my hands. they don't make for beautiful things. my hands. i can't. they don't make. no it won't be art of any sort. at all. i told you i'm bad at this. i can't remind myself of that. again and again.

oh--well...

I just have one question.

Why in the world is he consuming my thoughts right now?

More importantly, how the hell do I make it stop?

Okay so that was two questions.

Bite me.

Baad idea.

It is never good to mix a vanilla milkshake with animal fries. Although it provides one with about 30 minutes of indulgent happiness......YOU ARE GOING TO FEEL SICK FOR HOURS.

So just in case you were thinking about it...don't do it.

Not bad, not bad.

3 out of 7 isn't bad. But in my defense I watched 2 good movies and since I didn't eat unhealthily, not jogging was okay. It's simple math really... -1+1=0.

I watched Slumdog Millionaire because I felt as though I was the only one who hadn't AND it looked really good...AND it was. Then I watched Taken because I always love a good action movie AND I not so secretly wish I could be a government genius agent that knew everything about survival and outsmarting everyone and everything.

Today was a good day. Now I get to a few books and it's off to bed. But FIRST--aloe vera on the sunburns.

Associations.

Our minds link tangible with intangible against our will.

What we sense in the now--what we see, hear, smell, touch, and taste--makes us, or at least me, think of people, memories, and very distinct emotions. It's like a slightly different and deeper sense of metonymy. I'm not looking at this in the sense of nostalgia or things reminding us of memories, but more so how the brain instantly and almost permanently makes associations that stay with you for years if not for the rest of your life.

Every time I listen to Lazy Eye by Silversun Pickups I think of how someone once told me the girl in the video reminds her so much of me. And it's true. I totally see it. The quiet shy girl just groovin' to her music. I don't even like Silversun Pickups that much, but for some reason this link means a lot to me and I'll never forget it.

I can't listen to Aphex Twin anymore because it was playing during one of the most awkward, long and painful car rides of my life.

Every time I smell coffee and my mouth starts watering, the first thought I have is I'm like Rory Gilmore, the coffee addict needing her next fix. I have NO idea why, but that's what my brain does.

When people discuss marriage or the like, one of my first thoughts is a moment when someone very intimately told me that I'm going make some man very happy one day. And the thought that always follows is the question I only asked in my head during that moment, Are you sure about that?

My brain repeats these connections, thought processes, and conversations the same exact way each and every time. It's as though each association is linked to a separate button that starts a train of thought in one and only one way every single time. It never diverts. It never changes.

It's only a few seconds where my brain goes into retrospective stream of conscious autopilot.

I think it's fascinating. And it makes me wonder...is everything permanently imprinted in our brain in the same manner? Although we may not consciously recall every bit of what our minds have processed, is it still there anyway? Maybe that's what makes certain people "smarter," and by that I don't mean critically smarter, but information retaining smarter: the ability to consciously recall things our brain has processed in the past.

Perhaps for most people it takes experiencing the same sensation in order to turn on the part of the brain in which that information resides. That is the only way that information can exist-when it is triggered by our physical connection to the outside world.

It makes me wonder if that's what deja vu (spelling? I'm too lazy to double check that) really is. Experiencing something exactly as we have before makes us recall something our mind has sensed in some way before. The only difference is we can't quite pinpoint where, when, or why. Usually we can, probably because it's something that left more impact. Maybe deja vu is just recalling relatively insignificant information we've worked with in the past.

So I must ask, what other little things are stowed deep away in this little head of mine?
Probably more of these ramblings.

The things I want to do today.

-Get a pedicure because I'm feeling girly

-Buy flamin' hot cheeto puffs

-Get some frozen yogurt

-Go jogging to offset the effects of the previous two things

-Rent a really good movie (Suggestions are welcome)

-Watch the really good movie

-Get back to reading the books I have neglected for a couple of weeks now


I'm aiming for 4 out of 7. I'll let you know how it goes.

Caring is difficult.

I wish the caring mechanism in our heads could be connected to an on/off switch (and the switch plate would be fittingly decorated with Care Bears).

Today I was told that I think I know everything, that voicing my opinions should be restricted, and (this is the kicker) that I'm a little fuck that needs to grow up.

Having someone outline to you how you are a terrible person on many levels isn't exactly the easiest thing to sit through or recover from.

Here I am thinking, Oh man I've made so much progress in these past couple of years. I've been working on many of my insecurities. I'm not thinking about the fact that I'm alone every minute anymore. I have gotten to the point where I go months without thinking about guys I never got over. I've gotten so much better about not dwelling on things. I feel like I finally know what I want to study and what kind of career I want to pursue. I get along so well with my parents now whom I love and respect so much. I'm thinking that I've finally gotten through this whole growing up thing.

And then I'm told that I'm judgmental, gluttonous in what I like and other things in my life, and that I do things without the consideration of others--by my own sister to boot.

Now I know that people who get to know you often provide insight on things you never saw in yourself. I've gone through it. I've heard many things before and many times they were true and so I worked on it.

But that list of descriptions is, frankly, an utter load of mile high shit.

I'm an opinionated person, and by that I mean I share what I think. But I'm also respectful. What certain people don't get is that my opinion is not a form of attack or disrespect. Just because you don't like what you hear doesn't mean you have the right to cruelly tear me down.

Until this day you (my sister) think I'm a 13 year old idiot. You think I'm stuck in my own world and I don't think about others. You think I need to be told and instructed what to do. You always think the worst in me. You always manage to find a way to explain my actions as selfish, attacking, and "OUT TO GET YOU!"

To be honest with you, get over yourself. You're not worth the time. And if you find me to be too immature and don't like my opinions, nobody is forcing you to listen to me. Nobody is forcing you to be in my presence. But don't think for a minute that just because you're sitting in the same discussion as I am, that I will restrict myself from saying what I really think for the sake of sparing your inability to take disagreement and conversation including the other perspective.

I've spent quite a bit of time and energy working on becoming a decent individual. I'm not going to let one person ruin all of that or make me second guess everything.

I think this is the point where hearing stuff like this is no longer advice or eye opening on how I really am. What it means is someone doesn't really know me and doesn't know how to talk with me. Where I am now--mentally, physically, psychologically or otherwise--is good and I'm confident with that. Of course, I can always be better. All humans can always be better. But I like where I am and I love where I'm going.

I'm quiet and insecure enough as it is. I've just started being better about that and to have someone tell me that I need to shut up about what I think...well, that's the last thing I need to hear because that's the one thing that ruins me time and time again.