(inner?) child psycho-analysis

Looking through stuff I found this water color painting obviously from when I was younger and decided to scan it to show you.
I think the caption was a bit cut off in the scan, but hopefully the title is easily seen despite the bad penmanship of my younger self. It says "Prettier Aziza" and under that, "the butterfly is prettier". Now I have no way of knowing how old I was when I drew this, based on the handwriting I would guess somewhere between kindergarten and 3rd grade, but I'm not sure. The picture seems like a happy, normal child's artwork, but the words are concerning for obvious reasons. Did I not think I was pretty? I've seen small pictures of myself, I was the cutest little thing on the face of the earth! Is it possible that I really had a low self confidence? I know that my parents would never make me think that of myself, and that would have been the most logical place for a child to get those odd ideas, other than my brother. But that makes no sense.

This is surprising because now my self asteem is very high in most respects now, there wasn't much time in my life that I thought I was inferior. I always made friends very easily and enjoyed playing at recess with them. I suppose there was time in 1st grade where I didn't have many friends, but I don't remember thinking down on myself because of it. I don't remember blaming myself for my parent's divorce, or getting bad grades and feeling bad, or being ridiculed or insulted by the other children. But most importantly, I don't remember feeling bad about myself, it was a shock to me to find this. Maybe I blocked out the bad stuff.

I have come to know from pictures like these that are found, and a secret 1st grade diary that I found, that I was a very, very deep child. I had ideas and feelings and wrote poems and song lyrics. Also what was surprising to me was that I was well aware of both the male and female anatomy at the age of 6, and had an entire entry explaining the differences of the two. The show Friends, I think may have endused that. But this is beside the point. I know that I was capable of having an idea vastly different from another, and I also know that what I was thinking was not exactly what was written down on the page before because of lack of grammar, good spelling, and vocabulary. So maybe what I think this picture means is a misunderstanding?

If it had simply had the title, I would have thought that it was a grammatical error meaning that Aziza is pretty, as the butterfly is. Or had it only had the caption, I would have also assumed it meant the butterfly was pretty. But the two phrases together makes a very compelling argument that I genuinely thought that that butterfly was prettier than myself. But the fact that "Aziza" is not depicted in any way in the drawing makes me think that that is not the case. I know that children's thoughts are not the most logical or understandable, but I think that there would have also been a picture representing myself had this been the case. Am I right? I don't know...maybe I'm just being hopeful that I was not troubled in any way as a child. I keep thinking of myself in that way as a kid, even though I keep remembering things I was very distressed about. Self confidence problems at a litterite age I don't recall at all.

Does it even matter what I thought at that age now? Why do I care? I think most of it is the fear that there is more beneath the surface than I was aware of. Which I always knew, but still is surprising and scary to me.

Wonder about if I had known that my older self would be analyzing my art work later, at the time I painted it. Nevrmind, that would be creepy.

i told you i drew things

If you remember or recall, I said I had done some sketching back when I started blogging here. I don't think they are exceptional, but they aren't stick figures and they do remotely look like what I was trying to make them look like.

"cacanoe"

"vacant and filthy"

"do through do"

I shouldn't have folded the banana and vase picture before i scanned it, although it kind of works with the vase, like a table maybe?

I can draw the general pose of someone, but with the way I draw things, just what I see and not thinking about 3-D objects like they tell you to in art classes, if they move slightly and the fol din their shirt changes, I have to start all over. I need a manikin.

Anyway, the titles are the most fun about this. I draw the nearest object to me that is interesting enough to keep my attention and give it an arty name afterwards.

Give me your wildest and most illogical interpretation.

at the car wash (woahoohwoahoohwoahoohwoah)

Growing up in suburbia with barely anything expected of me save decent grades, with the addition of having an older brother which any hard work to be done was delegated to by my parents instead of me, I don't think I have actually done as much manual labor in one day in life than I did today. (Ooh that was a long sentence which I don't think is run-on)

Thankfully, by the time the fundraiser car wash for dance team came along, I had almost entirely healed from my soreness from the previous days. My legs kind of still hurt but it's all good.

Both days this weekend I got up to prance around on the side of the road with a sign advertising the wash to passing cars and get soaking wet in my flip-flops and short-shorts as I wash someone's car for free, hoping they'll give me something more than a 5 for the hard work. Some people went without giving any donations and some gave us a 20 without even washing their car, so I suppose it evened out.

I had some bonding time with the director and the girls on the team, hopefully I made enough friends so that I won't be alone in my tent for the camping trip next weekend.

Also, I got a little sunburned the first day. My face is still kind of pink.

oh the pain

I guess the workouts we do before dancing at dance practice has finally caught up with me. I woke up and everything hurt. Everything.
My legs, arms, butt, back, shoulders, and worst of all my neck. I tried to stretch it off, but I then realized that I was seriously strained.
I had been sore the previous day from certain aerobic exercises we did that day, and I had been a little tense so I massaged myself wherever it hurt yesterday. I'm not sure if it made it worse for today, or if it saved me even more pain, but it felt good at the time, so I'm glad I did.
I took a very slow hot bath that relaxed some muscles, but the neck and back still ache. I took some pain medication and it's probably working but I don't know how much. It was kind of distracting so I forgot to eat until 1 in the afternoon. And now I'm sitting with my back straight and a warm sweater and a cushion, trying not to move my neck in any radical way. I guess I'll just have to let it heal.

On the brighter side of things, the regular dance practice is doing wonders. I think I'll be really ripped by the end of summer.

love in complexity

I have many ideas about love. I've written essays and written endless rambling philosophical pieces never to be shared, not to mention the amount of sticky notes. You don't even want to know.

I've tried to graph it, tried to ignore it, tried to understand it, tried to explain it. It's a too vast subject to cover. But I will tell you my recent findings. And I tried to make it as understandable and clear as I could considering the fact that it came out of my scattered, relentlessly philosophical and confusing brain.

Overview:
I have always thought that it is all in your mind. Love is no outer force manipulating our lives, if you believe you are in love then you are. That's all there is to it. Then you ask "Why can't I decide to be out of love when I want to? Or decide to fall in love with someone?" A lot of times you cannot help what you think. Once the idea is in your head, you may never get it out. Sometimes your subconscious knows better than your immediate impulsion does.

Don't Believe Me:
What I have figured about love is based on a small sample taken from my life, your experiences are different, perhaps more thorough, if you don't agree then don't. Please tell me your reasoning. A lot of what I figure, I am sure, is me not wanting to admit something or get over something or understand something, and I try to find ways around it. At least it gives me temporary peace of mind.

The Theory:
There is a distinction between being in love and loving someone. It is possible to have either one without the other.

The Reasoning:
Look back at your life. If you have had the gift of believing you were in love in your life more than once then tell me this: Was the love the same? Perhaps it was for different reasons, but I want to know if it felt the same. What were the moments you thought "I love you!" In my life, I know that I have loved more than once, and they were different.

A lot of times I love THEM, the actual person, before I fall in love with them. This makes it easy, it seems like a dream come true if you begin dating them. And things run smoothly because I already have a trust, a respect, an amazing view of this person. I see no need to change them, argue with them, they are perfect (or at least as perfect as I need), I love them.

Sometimes I fall in love with them before I love them. This is more rare. It's as if I have a really good feeling about the two of us, and I haven't the slightest idea. Being in love is often mistaken for sexual pleasure or simply enjoying time with them, it's kind of hard to distinguish. Being in love I think is a figment of our imagination. That doesn't mean that it's not real. As I said, if you believe it, then it is true. Being in love is hard to occur without dating. But I think when two people meet and they "click" that it is a lesser form of being in love. It's how you know you can easily fall in love, not that you will easily love them.

If falling in love and loving someone happens simultaneously then it is amazing.

The Benefits:
It really is easier to learn to love someone if you are already in love with them.

It is easier to fall in love if you already love them.

Some Thoughts:
I feel uncomfortable telling someone I love them if I am only in love with them and not loving them. I go ahead and say it anyway, hoping that I will soon, knowing that they won't know the difference, knowing that it will make me feel good to say it. It would be a horrible guilt if I broke up with this person after telling them this because I could not learn to love them. Do I even have to love them? Isn't being in love enough if I find them agreeable? Perhaps it is better. The only thing missing is the unwavering trust and respect I have for someone I love. That can be made up with niceness and courtesy right?

Knowing that I am no longer in love with someone in a past relationship is refreshing. Just because I still like them (or love if you will) as a person, doesn't mean I am in love with them. I could never be in love with them again. Even if I still love them, which I hope deeply that I do not. That's where my philosophy fails me. It's all in my mind, but I can't change it. It's a let down of a philosophy. But so is a lot of other stuff.

The End:
Do you agree?
Can you argue?
Do tell.

movies

I watch a lot of movies. At least one a week, I average more during the summer. Sometimes one a day. And although I cannot remember all the movies I like, nor all the movies I have seen, these are my favorites of which I remember in no logical or significant order. I even threw in the occasional Disney favorites from my childhood to throw off any trend you thought you were about to see in my list. Take that.

Benny and Joon
Austin Powers (all)
V for Vendetta
Superbad
Minority Report
Cashback
Walk Hard
Memento
Across the Universe
Rocky Horror Picture Show
The Little Mermaid
Pirates of the Caribbean (all)
Paprika
Rush Hour
District B13
Toy Story
The Matrix
Donnie Darko
Sicko
This Is Spinal Tap
Moulin Rouge
Pan's Labyrinth
There Will Be Blood
The Bothersome Man
Monty Python and the Holy Grail
Mirror Mask
Son of Rambow
Namesake
The Lion King
Transformers
In Bruges
Princess Bride

It seems to me that I end up liking more movies than I think I will. If I go to see a movie I will rarely hate it. Except that one movie Michael Clayton. I really hated it for some reason I can barely recall. Don't see it I beg of you.

Do we share any common favorites? =)

a twisted modern mind

I have seen my share of musicals, and a number of plays considering my age and what the normal American sees. But I rarely sit through an entire opera, the fact that the more famous ones are in Italian, a language I have trouble picking Latin roots out of, not helping. (Even with dismissing the fact that they are singing, making it all the more harder.)

While watching the opera Manon on TV, I began to grow bored. (Horrible of me, I know). And I phased in and out of attempting to read the hard to see subtitles, trying to follow the moderately entertaining story line, and focusing in on the orchestral backup. The latter of the three held my interest the best, but still yet I didn't feel the compulsion to watch the entire thing the way I was.

Don't get me wrong, it's true that I do like classical music. How could I play in a school orchestra 6 years thus far without being able to enjoy it? But it's not my forte...more of my mezzo-piano.

I make that joke too much.

Anyway, the idea dawned on me to listen to my own, more modern and much more enjoyable music in my taste, to the opera. The young girl and her boyfriend (I presume?) were singing all about how they can no longer contain themselves, the sexual attraction between them was too much to not act on. And at this point I had gotten out my mp3 player and put it on shuffle. What come on but "The Way You Like It (Sex U Up)" by L.F.O. I have no idea where I got this song, but I like it. It's a rip-off of the boy bands in the early '00s.

So anyway, I'm sure a lot of other songs could have also fit the scene. Modern music is mostly about sex, but I found the situation too funny to not let the song run. I imagined the man in the opera singing this in his grey wig and fitted Italian old-timey suit. "I wanna sex u up, I know the way you like it. Let me freak u out. Uh uh, uh uh."

I didn't want to ruin the moment so I waited until the end of the scene to laugh.

detachment

I don't feel particularly attached to the people on So You Think You Can Dance as I have in past seasons. Perhaps it's because I missed one or two episodes, perhaps it's because I am more interested in the dancing recently than the tone of dancing, if you understand. Perhaps I have grown past the stage of childish care for these complete stranger's lives, which most adults have not grown past.
It is more for the education of the show than the entertainment of the dancers being knocked off week by week and the performance of the routines. Hell, I even watch the results show, having much more actual dancing than American Idol had singing on their results show.

But it is a wonderful show if you haven't seen it.

I save the character relating and apprehension and suspense for the shows I watch specifically for that--including House. The others escape my mind for the moment.

a wink is worth a thousand words

It was a good wink. It was a well placed wink. I have regrets about that wink. Why did I out the wink? Why oh why did I out that wink? Why did I have to laugh in his face, it was such a good wink. I wish I could wink as well as he did. I left him either thinking I was uninterested or left looking like a complete idiot, un-experienced int he winking department. And concerning that, I assure you I have had my share of winks and my share of winks received. But it is an art, and that wink, it was so perfect I didn't know what to do with it, and I hadn't had much time to think about it.

This was no "I THINK it was a wink!" Because of the winking art, he must have thought of his departing time to wink. That is the classified respectable winking time: upon last glance until an unspecified time. In place of a goodbye, from perfect eye contact from across the room. This was no virgin winker, this was no mistake.

Perhaps he was just practicing. I practice winking at people I know or briefly meet frequently, just to get some practice in. But how many Mormons do you see winking around town? You see what I mean now don't you? Why would a Mormon be winking? He liked me, wanted to say in the sliest, most discreet, most out of character, greatest, coolest way he could. He wanted to wink, and because I was unprepared, I made him look dumb to the group. And I made myself look dumb to him.

But he didn't get embarrassed. Sure, he denied it, but his eyes were still attempting the contact with me, he still wanted to get the message across. When we were sitting at the table side by side we wanted to look towards each other, but we were so close anyway it would have been too awkward for first meeting. I honestly didn't see the wink coming.

Sure, I read too much into winks and gestures and comments and looks.

A wink should go unsaid. A wink outed is a wink that has lost it's spice, lost it's mystery, infringed upon it's meaning.

You see, the eyebrow raise would have been creepy. I would have giggled and said nothing. I would have kept that to myself...I hope. The wink was too cute to go unsaid, the wink was so in character that I didn't even see it coming. The wink was the perfect end to what we knew of each other thus far, but I had to screw it up.

The fact that I care so much escapes me. Yes, he was somewhat cute and had an agreeable personality, but what does that mean? I must go through a 2 point checklist before deciding if someone is friend/boyfriend material. "Somewhat cute? check. Mostly agreeable? check." And bam, no further questions until we are dating.

I am too easy to please. That means I am either very very nice, very very horrible, very very desperate, very very indecisive, or very very lackadaisical. That's quite a large pan of what I could be. How am I supposed to figure out which of those it is?

Are my standards too low?

Am I just too likable for my own good?

And why must I think of all this while I have a boyfriend? Now I am feeling very very guilty. =(

This is perhaps the reason that pretty and popular girls develop bitchy, mean, snide personalities. To fend off the guys after them. I don't want to become that. I don't want to become one of those people who thinks they're better than other people. And even though I know I'm not, there are times when it seems like it would be beneficial to act as if I thought that.

meh...

it was a very nice wink though.

what are YOU thinking about?

In talking on the phone to a boy who is outwardly infatuated with me nearly ever day on the phone, he often asks me what I am thinking about.

Now I am not sure exactly how this become the tradition, but every time he asks I respond with "something too naughty to say" or just silence which he knows what to take as. This could have became to be in several ways.

• The first time he asked I wasn't particularly thinking of anything so I told him to guess. And he has a sick mind so his guess was naughty and I just went along with it.
• I am actually the one with the sick mind and every time he asks I was already thinking about it anyway.
• His asking me always triggers me to begin thinking about it if I hadn't already (especially with his new tone of voice as he asks from what he knows I have responded with in the past.)
• My want to please him.
• My want to freak him out.
• My want to hear his nervous laughter which is by the way hilarious.
• The possibility that i might want him to think those idea are not completely out of the question.

But I highly doubt any of those, it just kind of happened by chance and I don't see any reason to stop. It's not like I'm spelling anything out for him in the slightest. Just the occasional sexual elude, but what healthy conversation doesn't have a few of those, eh? He's completely inexperienced, wouldn't know where to begin anyway, let alone have the guts to actually ask me if I am thinking about sex or even making out directly. "Remember that thing you said that time before last? C'mon you remember, why did you say that?"Sometimes I honestly have no idea what he's talking about, but other times I play dumb to see how much of it he will repeat.

It's one of those things. I'm thinking it, you're thinking it, why can't either of us say it? I waiver between trying to make him think he is crazy or frustrate himself so much that he gives up and we can go on with the normal conversation about our lives and interests again.

there's a sparrow in it for you

My dad drove the family 65 miles north, over halfway to Canada, to go to a state park and look at birds. While there we also ended up driving up a hill that they claimed to be a mountain and took pictures of ourselves at the top of the cliff drop-off.

The drive wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I barely managed to read a few pages of the book I was expecting to plow through that day, somehow I can never read in the car with the radio and people talking and the outside to gaze at indefinitely.

It was mostly pleasant despite the argument we had about the highway exit. The blues and jazz coming out of the radio throughout the drive gave a calming effect and had the equivalency of fun when we started singing along to our favorite Eva Cassidy and BB King songs. That's part of what I like about my family, there are some music genres we can agree upon. Classic rock is also among those.
On the sight tower we had almost a full 180 degree view out into the lake and across to the mountains. My first instinct was "Wow it looks just like the Imax theatre!" That got a chuckle out of the group.

We took a little stroll (or a hike as they referred to it) on the trail near the park. It only could have been one or two miles long, didn't take that long to go the full circle just ambling. Before that we had had a large lunch which took care of breakfast for the day, dinner that night, and most of breakfast the following day. It was large indeed.

language can be a thought but not vice versa

Why is it that we need to express what we are thinking in language? Before we (as an individual or as a species) learned a language, we surely had thoughts. We just thought of them as they were; the raw, direct thoughts. It's kind of hard to explain because what I'm using to explain it is words. (Which is the very thing I am trying to question. So either I am a hypocrite, or none of this makes any sense anyway and I am crazy.) Let's continue shall we?

If we had thoughts before we knew language, when we were babies, then it is no wonder we can't remember our lives from before the time we could speak. We have no memories that are in the language we currently process information in from that period in our life.

For instance, I remember dreams far longer if I write them down, translated from thoughts to English, or even think about what happened in the dream in my inner monologue, no doubt in English. Rather than remembering the feelings of the dream combined with the "raw thought", as I will refer to it from now on, I am remembering the words which almost instantaneously trigger the memory because English is the language I think in.

You can see this when you are trying to remember something. You can usually work backwards from a visual or a phrase you remember. But sometimes, if in the first place you never worked the experience into meaningful words, you just have to "think about it" for a minute without any inner monologue in the slightest. Those, I am assuming, are your raw memories. How else do you think you can go from not remember going to the circus when you were 4 and then remembering? When it finally "comes to you" you then work it into meaningful words from memory and it is then stored in your memory longer because of the words you worked the memory into. If you revisit the non-raw memory again, then you will most likely "remember" that day when you were 4 forever.

Say I am trying to write an essay. And I have been pondering (in English) what to write about specifically. And then I am thinking about something or other and then it hits me...kind of. "Ooh ooh! Wait what was that! I had something!" Might have to work forwards from the last thing in English I remember thinking and see where me mind takes me, but go slower. It was a raw thought, something in the back of my mind. Something that my inner monologue was barely keeping track of, so it just kind of rushed by. But in the severe mental state I was in, racking my brain for ideas for this essay, I sensed it somehow.
At this point I would sputter out seemingly (but not actually) random words aloud, trying to get a feel for my raw thought in the English language. And a lot of times, it helps. And I can "remember" (really just understand in the way I know how) what I had thought of.

In the time when I am about to fall asleep, there is a brief period of time when I am just freely thinking. Sometimes about my life in a very disorganized and tangent-like way, sometimes in a daydream about something that could happen, sometimes random visuals as if I were high. I think this time gives the perfect in-between stage between raw thought and language. I am not aware in the slightest that I am thinking, it's all about the thought. But it is often in the English language and if I become aware at any one point that I am thinking, I could describe what I had thought without any sputtering of words or mind strain at all. Perhaps that that is only because of the relaxed state of almost asleep that helps me, but I'd rather think it's because it was mostly in raw thought.

Tell me your thoughts on my thoughts about thoughts.

royal impact

High school dance team is not nearly as prestigious as a formal dance class, about as expensive, but much more time wasting. But the bragging rights (included in the team jacket wearing and assembly performance) makes up for it. The social aspect of it is not in the fashion that I would consider beneficial to me. To put it plainly, when I hang out with dumb people, it kind of rubs off. But it's also better than nothing, which is what I had in the way of my dance education preceding my acceptance to the team. Most of what I know I learned from watching TV, or just picked up naturally at the rare middle school dances.
The choreography for tryouts consisting entirely of hip-hop, so I decided to use the other required part of tryouts, an original choreographed dance, to my advantage. I somehow pieced together a routine of jazzy-ish moves that I had seen some place or another and made them think I had taken a class or two. The other girls trying out kept asking me to show them my routine after the hype they heard from the friend who saw me preform. It was satisfactory in that way, and I giggled and screeched along with the girls who made it on afterward as I thought necessary to fit in, and as I actually felt like doing, believe it or not.
This summer we are having practice 2 days a week for an hour and a half. Which means it will be the busiest summer of my life. Don't say it's sad, that alone isn't what's making it that, but it sure adds to it. I have been catching up with friends I haven't seen in months, reading books, swimming, watching movies, keeping up on chores somewhat, and enjoying myself thoroughly. I have never had a summer this productive! I must be doing at least 3 productive things daily! This is amazing! Well if productive counts as doing something other than sleeping, eating, and doodling around on the computer. Going shopping counts as productive in my book, even though it is kind of the opposite.

But I am enjoying myself on the team. I was blown away at how good they were at the assembly, that's why I felt a compulsion to join. Can't wait to get the new choreography on Tuesday.

12 blocks south

I think of the greatest, the oddest things in the unaccounted for time when riding the public bus. The problem is that I rarely remember what they are.
The reason for this is that most of what I think of are stream of consciousness perceptions that are almost instantaneously replaced by something else in my frontal lobes that seems remotely interesting. I might be very rudely staring at a couple kissing and wonder how exactly they would have met, or wondering what they see in each other. I might be listening to the bus sounds and thinking of a song that would fit well with it some way or another. I might be reading a sign on the bus (I try not to do that too much, it gets real old, real fast). Or my favorite, thinking as if I were a poet viewing the world, trying out what I see in captivating phrases. "Pink petals and cigarette butts are strewn on the sidewalk. A piece of cotton floats past my face, and I don't attempt to catch it. This tree is too crooked or my taste, and the color of that car disgusts me."

I was on the bus thinking about where my next transfer was going to be and calculated that it was supposed to take 9 minutes to get there. "I couldn't possibly go 20 blocks East and 12 blocks South in that amount of time! It's preposterous!"chimed in my inner monologue for no apparent reason in an English accent. But lo and behold, it got there, with about 45 seconds to spare might I add. So, "you can go a long way in 9 minutes". It doesn't sound like much, but I found it somehow profound. I think it was because it was 3:56 to 4:05. Both of those times I would have rounded to 4 o'clock on most occasions, so it seemed like no time at all, and I was nowhere near my destination.
I found you can use this in many aspects. for example: "People can change a lot in 9 years." "Many can be fed with 9 cups of rice." "All can be done with 9 fingers."

yeah...that made no sense. Maybe I should just read a book on the bus.

don't judge, just listen

I admit I'm a horrible person. I never finished reading Great Expectations.
I think I'm one of those people who like saying that I read books but really doesn't get around to it that often. I mean, when I think about how many books I have actually read, I swear It couldn't be more than 100. I mean I guess that isn't too horrible considering how many years I spent actually able to read above a third grade level...7 years. I put off reading things constantly, but I do like reading and I do like quoting what I read. Half of Great Expectations lead me to get these quotes that I found humorous or profound in some way.

"I looked at the stars, and considered how awful; it would be for a man to turn his face up to them as he froze to death, and see no help or pity in all the glittering multitude."

"My sister's bringing up had made me sensitive. In the little world in which children have their existence whosoever brings them up, there is nothing so finely perceived and so finely felt, as injustice. It may be only small injustice that the child can be exposed to; but the child is small, and its world is small, and its rocking-horse stands as many hands high, according to scale, as a big-boned Irish hunter. Within myself, I had sustained, from my babyhood, a perpetual conflict with injustice. I had known, from the time when I could speak, that my sister, in her capricious and violent coercion, was unjust to me. I had cherished a profound conviction that her bringing me up by hand, gave her no right to bring me up by jerks."

"As the question had no bearing, near or remote, on any foregone or subsequent transactions, I considered it to have been thrown out, like her previous approaches, in general conversational condescension."

"I began to throw my torn-up grass into the river, as if I had some thoughts of following it."

"Heaven knows we need never be afraid of our tears, for they are the rain upon the blinding dust of earth, overlying our hard hearts."

"He'll give you a wine, and a good wine. I'll give you a punch, and not a bad punch."

"If you have the heart to think so."

"We changed again, and yet again, and it was now too late and too far to go back, and I went on. And the mists had all solemnly risen now, and the world lay spread before me."

Well I read from a copy that had the cover of the picture in the top left, I have a feeling that I would have been more inclined to read the rest had I had a copy with the cover to the right here.

not faltered from flattery

In just 5 days I have been complimented by my boyfriend so much, I barely knew how to take it. It wasn't the density of the flattery that took me off guard, just the fact that they were all things I've always wanted to hear about myself, and how creative he was in saying them.

For small talk I brought up the fact that I am very ninja, and he didn't argue that pirates were better or say "oh really?" in a sarcastic teasing way or confessed that he was also a ninja or asked me for some proof, perhaps records of my most resent assassination as most boys seem to respond with. He said that it couldn't be true. That I am too nice. That I am cuddly, like a bunny.

Take into account that I have only talked to him in person once so far, and you have to admit it's pretty flattering.

He sent me a message at 3 in the morning saying that he couldn't stop thinking about me. And went off talking about how kind and courteous and beautiful I was. He even used the word enchanting, which I thought was wonderful. Also that he loved me...

Damn I'm good. haha.

He's a sweet guy =D

oh joyous parallels

How can I maintain a joyful mindset when I know I could be suffering with the safe effort?
By knowing that being joyful is better.
or By forgetting that I could be suffering.

How can I fall in love when I know that I could be in love with someone else just as easily?
By knowing that being in love is better than searching and doubts.
or By forgetting that I could be in love with another.

Why can't I maintain a joyful mindset when I know I could be suffering with the safe effort?
Because I really am suffering, I just don't want to believe it.

Why can't I fall in love when I know that I could be in love with someone else just as easily?
Because I really am in love with someone else, I just don't want to believe it.

I have a theory about love, and it's just as good as any other. If you let yourself fall in love, then you will. And if you believe that you are in love, then you are. If your subconscious thinks this, and your conscious doesn't, then the idea will be enforced even more, and you'll never let go.

My problem is that I don't want to believe my own theory, it makes me wonder how slightly better my life could be if I decided I would fall in love with someone else.
It also makes me think that my subconscious will never let go...and that I have no control over it.

I'm suffering inside. But I know that being in love is better than that.

asshole and slut traditions

Rocky Horror Picture Show is about 30 years behind my time, but a friend of mine has introduced me to the movie, and I attended a midnight showing last weekend. It was awesome, I'll go again with her in early August.
Going as Magenta, I made an accurate costume from her first appearance in the movie during the Time Warp.
If you have ever attended a showing of this particular movie, you know that every theatre has a different tradition for all of the "virgins" (never having attended a showing before). Of course I went up for the ceremony, I am quite spontaneous and outgoing when it comes to these things.
I didn't know much of the audience script, but with these things you catch on quickly.
Even though the majority of the audience was obnoxious people yelling profanity in their floor-show attire, I found the experience worth while and really fun. How many chances do you get to throw toast in a theatre and check out hot guys wearing barely anything in the middle of the night?

Every month if I want. *_*

fireflies don't enjoy lightning

Why? Why has the storm come? It's Summer... I guess it was only the matter of time. The cotton (from cottonwood trees) floating in the air and the fireflies swirling outside my window at night, and the sweet flowery smell and the outside pool usage--the Summer things I enjoy--could only only last so long. Because the winter lasted, it seemed, the course of three seasons, I assumed the usual Summer would happen. But I see now how this is just Spring in disguise.

On the flip side of things... it's raining!!! I actually do like rain, I don't know why I was so let down by it. One of the best days of my life it was raining, in fact it was the main feature of the day which made it my favorite.
I like to go back to the happiness of that day.