 |
Captain's Log: 2008.0101.05.08: Maniacal New YearIf you've ever questioned how cool I am, now you know:
Regular coffee just isn’t enough for me—I need an extreme rum-flavored creamer, which can only be contained by the fearsome image of a polar bear. Sanity, my friends, remains overrated. In other news, Rockford has once again put me into an emotional coma. It went away earlier when I played the keyboard as loudly as possible, and afterwards it felt better than shouting, despite a little pain in my hands and ears. Though, I cannot remember what yelling feels like, to tell the truth. Oh well, I could be like Sleeping Beauty, if Aurora was a tired, borderline antisocial eighteen year old, anyway. Hahah, probably not what the poor prince expected when he sought out his love. After snowfall accumulates on the deck outside of my room, you can sometimes hear loud cracking noises as the wood warps under the weight. I jump every single time, since it only happens at night-usually when I try to sleep-and it's awful because it already takes a while for me to fall asleep, plus I forgot my body pillow at school so I roll into the wall instead of a snuggly mass, and there has been a far too long string of words between periods, which is my cue. There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness. Friedrich Nietzsche (1844 - 1900) 01.13.08: Back To The PastWhen a single thought keeps tugging at your attention, life feels like a waiting room full of strangers and dull magazines. As much as escaping out a window would thrill me, curiosity has me hooked to the chair, but the boredom inflates itself and scares away ideas I might otherwise entertain. Surely the thought is a universal one, the consuming feeling that, at this very moment, you are missing out. Still, the grass on the other side is merely more grass... My words need self-esteem. Speak the truth, but leave immediately after. Slovenian Proverb 01.14.08: Elusive, What We SaidJay and my inbox both told me to update more. ...? [insert what you want to hear] My life's interesting only in ways I cannot say aloud, so sometimes I wonder what people think of me—the ones who never hear or see my words. Sometimes I care, sometimes I don't, and sometimes I do but pretend not to. A lot of the time I don't know what I care about, anymore. The Golden Rule seems kinda bleak at times, but the sense of at least helping others be happy should be good enough, huh? Sometimes you have to get to know someone really well to realize you're really strangers. Mary Tyler Moore (1936 - ) 01.15.08: Bittersweet JoysOh Chicago, how you tempt me with your concert-y ways. 02.15.08 - 02.20.08 Wilco Not to mention the two pairs of tickets I received as a Christmas gift for the pianist next month and Yo-Yo Ma recital in March, which I'll need to find another person for, but that will be hard since they are both on weekday nights. And not a lot of people enjoy instrumental music. Aaah. Another excellent yet bitter thing: Me: EEEE! EEE! EEEE! That was actually excitement for my backordered camera that was promised around Christmas, and not the legion of ants I with once waged epic battles. Due to an awful, horrible occurrence that happened towards the end of winter break, the camera was upgraded out of pity, or something. Oh well, I will try to make the most of it, in memory. A sense of duty is useful in work, but offensive in personal relations. People wish to be liked, not be endured with patient resignation. Bertrand Russell (1872 - 1970) 01.18.08: 12AM MusingsSpent a long time drawing today, but didn't like one bit of the result. Even if I capture the splendor of the moment, no matter how much potential energy lies within the strokes, the lines still only exist as static explosions. I could give someone the most splendid of wings, but they'd still be stuck to the paper, trapped inside a more ideal thought. Is it possible, I wonder, to create a beautiful world, one that would fall off the edges of my small canvas? Or am I stuck with no more than scenic windows to a place only in dreams? Or maybe I am the only one who wants a better day, who wants to escape this stagnant scenery in search of a softer setting and more comfortable characters. I wonder. A minute of perfection was worth the effort. A moment was the most you could ever expect from perfection. Chuck Palahniuk (1962 - ) 01.19.08: Rock And A Hard PlaceGoing outside in this sub-zero weather would be unbearable, so perhaps tonight shall remain dull. I wish my hope of escaping this boredom would just die already. Oh well, such social occasions never sat well with me; disguising my face and flaws seems like a pretentious and wholly make-believe affair, especially when no one really gives a damn anyway. It's a shame, though, because I think I would enjoy life a lot more at times. Who knows? I cannot imagine myself emotional and talkative in the way that other females are, but I'm not exactly at the other end of the spectrum, either. I suppose it boils down to deciding whether or not who you are worth being patient for, and that's a quite the subjective call. Until you've lost your reputation, you never realize what a burden it was. Margaret Mitchell (1900 - 1949) 01.21.08: ...I Sound Depressing... :(Oh, if only the day could be pulled apart to save the good from the bad. Save the snowfall against the skyline, but throw away this exhausting uncertainty. I think that's what I miss most from my past... the trust. Not having to read into words, because Christ, I hate the clueless wondering for every single thing, and when people won't tell me what’s wrong, all I can do is look on while they struggle with whatever the hell it is they are trying to say. I mean, sometimes all I can do is listen, but perhaps they just don't really want to hear it themselves. There's always that undertow pulling me towards analyzing what would be the best overall outcome, even if it means I drift far away from it. Maybe some of you will understand how it is. Self-sacrificing is definitely not the word, because I am terribly selfish, which in an ironic way kind of drives the way I act. I just... What’s the point of smiling when those around you can’t, you know? Three passions, simple but overwhelmingly strong, have governed my life: the longing for love, the search for knowledge, and unbearable pity for the suffering of mankind. Bertrand Russell (1872 - 1970) 01.23.08: Infinite Horizons, Or Not
Maybe all the smoke we create is just escapism on a mass scale, hiding the world from sight. My eleventh story suite got jilted with views, except for sunsets. Some days I sit out in my lounge and gaze out the window, trying to decipher the sky from the reflections of another all too familiar room, hurriedly turning back to whatever drawing/story/homework I should have been working on whenever someone would pass by, hoping to catch at least some beauty before the sky flickers out like a spent candle. Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night. Edgar Allan Poe (1809 - 1849) 01.24.08: StumblingAh, I derive some sort of deep satisfaction to archive all the month's clutter. December too, since I forgot to link to it on the actual archives directory. Today I noticed the Valentine's Day decorations in my cafeteria, which had apparently been up for a while, so my mind must have taken mercy on me and had been denying the holiday's existence. While I refuse to date for the sake of dating, being single really makes me feel like crap on occasion. I never really got the chance to spend the day with someone I cared about, so maybe it makes all the other times worth it, but most days are better in that situation. I dunno, you'd think a day for promoting love wouldn't make a person feel down. Guess I asked for it though, when I swore to give up on that whole scene. It'll just have to find me, if it dares. Ugh, my own whining makes me ill. Stupid paper hearts... A conclusion is the place where you got tired of thinking. Harold Fricklestein 01.27.08: I Still Hear Your Echoes
Ah, there it is, the world I see... I didn't mean to listen to Beethoven, or remember that even if I walked a million miles, I will still miss what I can never reach out and touch. Gaaaaaaah. Damn my train of thought. It's not like there aren't plently of happy things to reminisce about. What the hell is wrong with me, lately. I better not talk to anyone until my inner emo works itself out. I dreamed you were there Voxtrot - Sway 01.28.08: I Don't Even Like CoconutsMe: aah! i almost spilled coffee on my lambs. A little earlier: Bells: *hug* Sometimes the appropriate response to reality is to go insane. Philip K. Dick (1928-1982) All ramblings of Erica Feggestad 2000-2008 |
 |