Busy living.

I messed up in 2011

2011-12-23T14:19:00.001-08:00

I've been knowing it and denying it but now I know how. Once upon a time I was angry at somebody I love and I misplaced it on everyone I didn't. I've been too busy ignoring my feelings and wanting to be right to acknowledge it, but I am now.

This year I'm going to make it right. I have a lot of things in mind for 2012, and the first thing Im gonna do is make it right. I'm gonna write faithfully, meditate routinely, and make music frequently.

I'm going to cleanse my body once a month. Start running and doing yoga. I'm going to get a MFLB so as to go easy on my mistreated lungs.

I'm going to go to Europe. I'm gonna figure out what I have to offer the real world with my career and sharpen those things. I'm gonna be all I can be, but not obsess over it. I'm going to be happy with the things that I have.

And to make things right -- I'm going to let myself be angry, forgive the one I love and treat those who I mistreated with the respect they deserve.

Prosit

This is a count your blessings post

2011-09-07T07:22:00.001-07:00

I had the most amazing weekend ever.

I got to b in Kimberlys presence when she sipped her first legal drink. Go to an awesome party at caseys with tons of great people I never met before. Ate a yummy brunch at Cherrywood. Spend sweet time with sweet Jackson. Shopped with my roomies. Hosted a bitchin party. Slept late. Floated the river. Taqueria. Relaxed. Breathed. And didn't feel guilty.

I went to the doctor. And I don't have scabies. Just dyshydrotic eczema and steroid cream.

Busy mind

2011-09-02T08:27:00.001-07:00

Today is the very last day of a week long detox diet. It was hard. I miss cheese. And I'm goin to eat some today ... But I did it! I stuck it out! And I'm extremely proud of myself!

Yesterday was very busy. I'm stressing out trying to help plan this party for the weekend and I spend most of the day buying stuff for the house. It was nice
to have my mind extremely busy, though in retrospect I don't know if I've been there for Tracie the way she wants me to. My mind is just very busy and as a result, I'm uptight. But this is what makes me happy and that's what she said to do.

I realized when I hang out with people that aren't trace, I just tall about myself and how I am and how I feel. I need to take time for myself to figure how I feel and channel my emotions and thoughts into a place. That's why this blog was supposed to be hut I hadn't kept up with. Me mental health is just as important as school though, if not more, so there's no more excuse for not making the time to bleed out a little.

I haven't even had the time to be nervous about these parties this weekend but maybe that's a good thing.

I need to go to the doctor and see about my skin if it doesn't clear up.

That's about it.

You know

2011-08-18T12:34:00.001-07:00

I was starting to feel better for a little bit when I would write frequently so here I go trying.

Today I read about a 20 year old guy who's dying of a rare blood disorder and doesn't know what it is -- it's sad, but I thought I'd start this post out with that for some perspective.

Amalie, it's not that bad.

But with that, my uncle is in the hospital for detox from high alcohol levels. It's really bad. And it's happened before and nobody knows how to handle it because no one has any faith in him to make a life for himself if he's put out on his ass. He's embarrassed of his situation and doesn't want to ask his immediate family for help because he's failed before.
Everyone in his family is just sick of the drama and cold hearted. But I haven't given up -- I just don't have the means to do anything it seems, but to speak kind words and be here for him. But I can't really unless he reaches out to me.

I don't like the way my body looks and I don't even feel good. I don't have very much energy because it's 100 degrees outside and that doesn't help.

Because my grandparents are no longer coming to austin because of the situation with my uncle, my weekend has freed up and my parents want me to go on vacation with them this weekend and I don't want to because
It's the week before school starts and it was very short notice and I'm not ready to leave for 4 days. I think they're ok with it though -- if there's one thing I have peace of mind about it's this -- but I do miss my family and I wish they were here.

Schools about to start and it's making me nervous like it does ever year - but in a subconscious way. It's almost as if that stress intensifies other stress that I have about other things but otter than that has no effect on me at all.

Im. Tired. Of. Everyone.
And it's fucking up my relationship.

I'm tired of being alone - which is how I spend the first half of every day now, and I wonder if thats shaping me to be more antisocial than I already am.

The good news is schools about to start and therein lies a lot of opportunity to meet some new friends.

In about a week I will be better.
Once I have to get my ass to class, talk to people, forget about everything else and stop entertaining myself with food and trees.

Tschüsi

Set up

2011-08-12T20:47:00.001-07:00

I don't even feel alive right now.

I had a bad day today. I was alone or running around for most of it. Super tweaking on caffiene. Did way too much. Hurt my back.

And I fucking can't handle anything right now. Being frustrated. Having people frustrated with me.

Starting to feel

2011-07-20T08:40:00.001-07:00

I'm prepared to get very anxious in a couple weeks because school is about to start. But I am also very excited about school, new schedule, new house and new roommates. I'm gonna miss 806 Dean Keeton. I wonder if I'm finally gonna be able to settle down once I have my shit together after I graduate.

Fucking wanderlust! That darn wanderlust!

I feel wanderlust is too often taken advantage of and used as an excuse for immaturity.

I like to move around and inconvenience everybody (so says my parents). Diagnosis, wanderlust.

She likes to open her legs. Diagnosis, wanderlust.

He likes to switch majors and is costing his parents a fortune. You guessed it.

Pride. Selfishness. Wanderlust.

So I have no idea what I'm going to do today. Tracie is in Houston till this weekend. Jackson has an interview and a lot of work to do and made plans with John and his friends are coming into town and all of this stupid. I fear for my life sometimes because it's so intertwined in these people, these things, I don't know where I fall with respect to myself.

I like having my german friends around to keep my feet on the floor. And i know I'm gonna feel better when council starts back up. But goddammit I wish Pia weren't leafing. And I wish Alex wasn't gonna be gone. Really take a huge chunk out of the people I want to hang out with list.

When did I become so antisocial?
Ironically, probably when I stopped hanging out alone.

Mother

2011-07-13T10:33:00.001-07:00

Mimi came to Austin this past weekend to see me. JUST to see me. She had nothing on her agenda more than just to spend time with me doing things I like to do.

We went to the farmers market, goodwill shopping, north loop, south congress, tons of food places, domain, Lakeway. All over. She was sweet to Jackson and didn't try telling me that I was wrong for anything. She let me cook her dinner, even though she kicks my ass at cooking.

My own mother wouldn't even do that. If I want to spend time with her it has to be on her terms, in her city, at her mercy. Even 'bonding' time is a matter of control. It just kind of occurred to me after mimi's visit.

Maybe I'm being too hard on her. My mom is tired because she works full time, so it's not as easy to drive up for a weekend. But I don't know how she would know, because she's never done that without Jake or Dad.

Our relationship is based on family, and I don't like that. I respect and appreciate it, but I have no idea who she is other than my mother.

I'm going to call her and explain this. He is going to grt defensive and think I'm saying mimi is better than her or something like that. Manipulation control blah blah blah.

I hope she proves me wrong

In other news, I went on my first yoga ride yesterday. It was exhilarating though after spending a day making eggplant Parmesan , quite tiring.

I wanna do it more
But today, I relax.

Someone told me a long long time ago that I could do that but I'm starting to realize I actually can't.

2011-07-09T20:32:00.001-07:00

Everyone quit trolling

2011-07-07T09:55:00.001-07:00

Earlier this week I dropped my erm...pencil bag in the kitchen. And I didn't realize it until I got home from work, and Jackson held up a pencil bag and asked if it was mine. Although there were the same amount of pencils, and I didn't know where my pencil bag was, I had trouble believing that this one was mine, because it was dirtier and the pencils seemed shorter. Even though lots of things corroborated, some things didn't. And I wasn't going to accept the truth till everything did.

Yesterday my bosses were talking to a young guy in my office and for a little while I was worried I was being replaced by him.

I fought with Jackson yesterday because he was not in a good mood and I assumed it was because of me.

My mom called me yesterday afternoon upset with me because her dad is pestering her. And blamed me because I talked to him. I did not ask him to pester her. I was not at fault. But I was upset because I was being blamed.

I feel overly responsible for things. Because a lot of times I am blamed for things I am not responsible for, I sometimes overcompensate and assume that I am being blamed for things I am not.

It's sad because now I'm left realizing that I'm probably hurting my relationships by making these assumptions. If not, I'm definitely adding unpleasantness.

Anxiety is learned.

Dallas

2011-07-03T01:52:00.001-07:00

I really need to get back in the habit of posting on this every day cause I'm forgetting my dreams.

Dallas has been amazing so far and I am happy to be here with my very very sweet Jackson. We've tried a lot of new food places and hung out with Eugene and the rents and tonight we watched our first movie together in theaters as a couple. Tonight we watched fight club. I haven't watched a movie that dark in god knows howlong.

I'm realizing more and more that the people in my life are very successful at going to great lengths to make me happy and feel good, and I just need to think about that more

I had some coffee earlier and that may be keeping me up too.
Honestly, I haven't been up this late in 'godknows how long', and I'm not feeling great so this is gonna be short. I'm a little upset and I dont want to go to sleep this way.

But I might as well.

Used abused confused and stuck

2011-06-30T08:41:00.001-07:00

A little part of me wonders, no, is absolutely sure that she is only being pursued in some relationships because they have become very convenient. And another part of me doesn't mind at all, because it's convenient for her too. But these relationships have years of history, it's too much to throw away over speculation.

The night before last, I dreamed that I called my father, but right when he answered someone beeped through. I took that call and forgot about my dad. He texted me requesting that I never call him again. My father can be really mean to people he loves.

Then last night I dreamed I was pregnant. I was more worried about how much having the baby was gonna hurt than I was about how much my life was gonna change. I've never dreamed that I actually had the stomach and everything, it was pretty real. I had to check when I woke up.

Yesterday I went to the secret beach with Tracie, Jackson, Alec and Justin. I only wanted to go with the first two, because that was it could be more chill, but instead it was an "aDVEnTurr". I was a little peeves at first but I tried to put a smile on my face. I dont like it when I plan something because I think it will be one way, and then it enda up being another way but Im stuck dojng it cause they were my plans. I like Justin and Alec a lot, but I think they're tired of me. Fine, I'm tired of them too.

But all and all yesterday was fantastic. Today should be too, and the rest of my fourday weekend. I hope ta finish my roll of film.

The fire

2011-06-27T15:05:00.001-07:00

Last night I dreamt that I was house sitting for my parents. It was the morning and I had to go to school. When I came back, there was a hole in my car, and my parents house was burned to the ground. In the remnants, there was a pot on the stove and it had been left on a burner. My dad did it.

Work was fun today. I got to drive a couple from Milwaukee around to look at houses for them an their lil b on the way. What a lucky kid that gets to grow up in a place like Austin!

The three hours since I got off work have been bad and I've been trying to slap some wrists and right some wrongs but no one really seems to see that Im just doing what's best for them.

No one ever sees that
It's always so short term.

Yesterday I had fun with Tracie smoking green and making these.

I decided that I'm eating healthy this week. Not spending more than $20 on buying food, so I made a very thorough grocery list. Get to shop in a few minutes. Also, I will drink exclusively water. And I will work out for 30 minutes at least 3 times. (I'm not feeling great about my appearance -- this is me taking control.)

I'm hoping the rest of the day will be better than the beginning. Radioshow tonight. I'm excited to see everyone after New Braunfels :)

Last Night

2011-06-25T08:58:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was a really good day. And last night could've been a really good night if everyone just left me the fuck alone. But they didn't.

In very much of the same way as if you don't let a puppy out of the back yard, he'll flip a shit when the gate opens, if you don't ever spend any time apart with someone you take care of all the time and care for deeply, when you do they will show up at your doorstep at 2am and barf in your toilet.

It's 11am, and honestly, the later it gets, the more upset I become at the fact that I feel obligated to sit here and watch this boy sleep and not pursue my day. Not because I have to, but because I don't know what else to do. At least not until 2, when I will go with my German friends to San Marcos and float the mawfuckin river.

I'm fucking irritated and I hope I don't stay that way.
Maybe I need some food in me.

Tschus

Papa don't preach

2011-06-24T09:43:00.001-07:00

I lied to my parents when I was younger, and I never really thought it was that bad. But later in life for a while, I saw nothing wrong with lying about what I was doing, because I wasn't doing anything wrong. And what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them

A note to parents everywhere: don't say no to your kids just because you can. You wonder why your teenagers are rebellious and disobedient... It's because you guys are controlling and manipulative. It's really fucked up and it fucks us up long term.

Throughout the course of history, if you haven't noticed, people have tended to want the things that they cannot have or are hard to obtain. Silk. Gold. Royal status. Beauty. Meat on your bones, and later when food was abundant, we switched to wanting nothing more than to look like we don't eat at all.

So when we can't stay out past 1, or choose our own diet, never get the chance to experiment with adult situations, when you are still there to sweep up our shit, we have to teach ourselves to become adults and accredit our intellectual independence to ourselves

Honestly that's not what I came here to say, but I thought that was worth mentioning.

What I came here to say, is a message to everyone in the world, lying is wrong and please don't do it.

It is a sign of cowardice. It hurts you. It hurts those you lie to. It hurts those you lie about.

So why do we do it?

A very good friend of mine is struggling with the idea of confronting her long time boyfriend (who she very much loves) about the fact that she has a very close guy friend who she loves spending time with, and has no romantic intentions with. (familliar, Amalie?) She swears if she says anything, he will get mad at her and forbid her from hanging out with him. Because she hasn't talked to him, though, she'll never know for sure, and it's because she is afraid of being honest. Because she is afraid of facing the trust problem her and her man have.

We lie because we are afraid of dealing with the truth.

Lying is the kind of problem that it is, because it's widespread. People forgive people who lie, because it is such an easy thing to do, so everyone does it. And we'd be hypocritical if we made a big deal about it.

But fuck that. Lies don't alter reality, they mask them. When people recover from being lied to, they figure this out, and make themselves feel better about the Lügen and the the Lügerei.

note: in German, Lügen are the lies themselves, whereas Lügerei is the act of lying. English, for whatever reason, doesn't have one word for the act of lying. When admonishing a liar, English speakers are then more inclined to admonish an individual lie rather than the act of lying. Perhaps this linguistic gap is partially responsible for the lack of stigma in our country.

I feel weird leavin this entry at this. I hate lies and I hate the act of lying. I have lied before and I hate that fucking coward part of myself more than I hate any other part of me. I am in a relationship that started on some rocky ground because of a couple of lies, told because my lover and I were afraid of losing each other, and a year later (see last post) I am only beginning to feel at peace. This Kampf has opened the lines of communication between myself and the person who 50% of my total communication is with. There are no lies, and in the last little while, that has carried over into the rest of my life.

Being lied to is tough, because I don't feel I (or anyone else for that matter) deserves it. But if somehow, I could share with everyone else in the world, or really anyone else in the world, what the beauty of trust and honesty has showed me, I feel it would be a better world.

I am so lucky to have the love that I do in my life. It shines hope on literally every other aspect.

Of all the kinds of love to crave we crave the kind that's wrong

2011-06-22T09:20:00.001-07:00

I had a dream last night that I've been trying to have for a really long time.

A lot of the dreams I've been having lately involve a large group of people in an isolated place working together to accomplish something. This was one of those settings. It was a craft show in a window covered building that looked like an office in the outside, but a hotel ballroom on the inside. I don't know if it matters but it was held to benefit a charity. Jackson was not with me. I showed up and was looking around, when out of nowhere 80% of the people involved started doing this awesome choreographed movement. It wasn't quite a dance, but everyone was wearing m&m colored shirts and moving in lines and patterns. It was beautiful and I was moved, but not before too long, I started to get upset that I wasn't a part of it. So I went apeshit. I started knocking over tables and the racks where the stuff was displayed, breaking glass all over the place. The dancing didn't stop. Everyone else was upset at me but I just kept destroying. A few people tried to chase me, but I was too fast and I climbed a tree. In the tree was a housemate of mine from Arrakis, trying to tell me people were mad and I should stop.
So I ran to an elementary school across the street posed as an interviewer, and asked a lady what she thought of what was going on across the street.
She said it wasn't a big deal and she was going to let her kid take the bus home.
The last thing that happened is probably the most literal, and means the most to me in my conscious life. On the way home I ran into my friends Seth* and Amanda* who don't usually hang out togethr, and asked what they were doing. Background, Amanda might be my least favorite person on the planet. It's not that she did anything wrong or that I don't like her, she just reminds me of things I should be able to not have to be reminded of.

But in this dream, I felt nothing toward her. She didn't mean anything to me but exactly who she was, and exactly what she was saying.

Thats when I woke up.

So the first thing I'm gonna admit, yes I have issues with belonging. My life is very tightly wound around a handful of people, with whom I have independent relationships, and when those relationships are taken in a different context sometimes I don't react well. I've never destroyed anything because of it and I don't know what it means that I resorted to destruction. What I do know is that when I saw my housemate I felt a little silly, maybe cause I could have belonged there if I really wanted, but at the time I didn't.

The main reason I chose to write this, is to mention the little thing that happened with Amanda. I can't say that I've experienced an encounter with her, subconscious or not, that left me feeling nothing. I am not certain it will continue to happen in my dreams or transfer over to real life, but I do know that it's possible and it's something I want very much.

Number one idle.

2010-07-24T22:23:00.000-07:00

This just in: excluding detail is no easier on the conscience than lying.
It's amazing how we rationalize our decisions with technicality, like it's a fucking game. I quit.
It hurts being selfless. But sometimes it hurts not to be.
I'm selfishly selfless.

And I've made changes, the right kind. And I'm gonna be happy. And I already am.
But part of me is healing. And there's not much more I can say about it.

Today my friend Christopher asked me what women want.
First I told him, I don't know, ask a woman.
But then I thought for a minute.
Not too long ago I developed a smell fundamental set of ideal circumstances for myself, not to expect but to live toward.

1. I want to be able to be many places at once.
2. I want there to always be something to do.
3. I want there to always be someone to do it with.

power, pleasure, positive regard. I don't know if that's what women want, but that's what I want.
I don't think anyone would complain about having any of those things.

I learned something recently courtesy ted.com that might just change my life forever. And that is, that happiness is synthetic. The human mind is conditioned to adapt extremely well to situations, and make the best of what it's dealt.
That makes me incredibly optimistic. You're telling me that next week I could be confronted with my worse fears, the most traumatic situations and soon, I'd be fine.
How does this not make you leap out of your seat?

Science has proved it, everything is gonna be alright. This is nuts. This is MAD.

Also.
Decided today sex doesn't matter till you're in love.

Gonna start writing more.

second guessing.

2010-06-28T15:44:00.000-07:00

The wait of the world.

2010-04-12T11:37:00.000-07:00

No one tells you that when life happens, it doesn't stop happening.

I suppose I should elaborate on this statement.

When you're exposed to something, there's no dis-exposure. It's a chemical reaction. It's a scrambling of an egg.
It's the baking of a cake, maybe one you want to have as well as eat. Coming up from a pretty low low can be...well...slowed if not completely impeded by the lowness of the low, the novelty, the recency. It's hard to say things are good when there's something always a hidden still-recovering section of you in the back of your mind.

But it's hard to say things are bad when you're only in the meantime.

I'm mixing my feelings here. I'm mixing emotions and thoughts and events, but I know I'm just hiding from something very obvious that is happening to me. I hide behind all this cryptic nonsense because I am afraid to archive the truth knowing that in the very near future, it could change, and as counterintuitive as it may be, I fear inconsistency.
I am afraid of changing something that isn't harming me in order to gain something that could make me a happier person, because there is more to be considered than just how I feel. I am afraid of inflicting harm, because I am afraid of guilt.
I am afraid of the selfish person that I'm being.

I'm in a situation that's hard to get out of.
I wish I could stay here.

But I fear regression.

I have come to the conclusion that life doesn't stop happening once fear is involved. Fear perpetuates life.
Life perpetuates regression.

I'm still living, still learning
Despite fear, I still know that the grass is green.

The strangest thing happened to me.

2010-04-06T19:37:00.001-07:00

One minute, I'm a care-free, yellow backpack and too much free time having, songbird communications, major smiling at everyone I see.
The next, I'm an employed 8-5er, regular commuter, malnourished, unhappy victim of anxiety.

Okay, so maybe the shift didn't happen quite that quickly. But damn, did I make a behavioral 180 from last month's Amalie.

I guess I decided on impulse to take on more responsibility as a result of the things I was feeling when I posted my last entry. Bad idea. Too big of a change, not ready for life to happen yet. But it's okay, I'm adjusting where I can and healing more than that.

That's not what I came here to talk about, though. i just feel like it's an important detail for understanding my frame of reference.

If you've ever used a virtual map, you know that zooming out, or changing your frame of reference gives entirely new meaning to the location you're assessing. The idea of recursiveness is basically, an idea repeating on a different scale -- that encompasses all preceding levels of that idea.

Yannow?

1! 2! 3! ...

No, I'm not yelling numbers at you. These are factorials.
1! is 1
2! is same as saying 2*1
3! is the same as 3*2*1
4! is 4*3*2*1

So basically, 4! is the same as 4*3! and 3 is 3*2!
With each increasing "level", you're incorporating one new element, and the rest exclusively elements of the preceding level.

I came here to talk about things that are recursive.
I don't know if I'm the only one that this happens to, but I feel like life is full of motifs. Sometimes, you learn something, and it just keeps coming up on your life, and it doesn't sustain in frequency for an extended period of time, but it seems like it coincidentally shows up a lot in the small amount of time after its frequency is exposed.

And lately, my motif is the idea of recursiveness.

I first was able to identify this motif last week during my rhetoric class when we were talking about Andy Warhol. A few words about the guy: he's a business artist. The question posed to us was, whether giving people a pretty picture that meant nothing was "art." The conclusion is that the art isn't in the object itself, but the fact that the object has no meaning is meaningful. Therein lies the art. Another conclusion is that the meaninglessness is calculated. And therein lies the art. A step out even further, a collective attempt at attributing artistic qualities to something without meaning is "art." And further than that, the ability to identify and make judgments about this collective attempt is art.

It's a cool thought, but why do you care, Amalie?

Because. Battling anxiety is recursive.
The first level is the actual stress. Your body basically stresses out a couple times, then it realizes "hey I'm getting stressed out a lot lately" and starts to behave as if it is always stressed out. For the person newly victimized by their own bodies, who isn't sure what happened, this creates the second level of stress that can almost go unnoticed. But not quite, people who are at all in tune with their minds (people with anxiety are extra in-tune as a result of the hypersensitivity) will start to notice things changing, and not be able to attribute them to anxiety because they are usually unfamiliar with the symptoms. They will start to make their own hypotheses about what is going on with them, and will usually assume the worst. This essentially confers for the nervous system that is already stressing about stressing about stress. And a fourth level is added.

I feel as if I have at least arrested the development of my own anxiety, because I have been fortunate enough to have someone very in my life who dealt with anxiety and all its physical manifestations, and was able to identify reasonably early on that I am not dying.

[Maybe another day when this has all blown over, I'll blog about what it was like to feel like you were dying for those couple weeks before my self-diagnosis.]

Interestingly enough, this concludes my post.
Sucks, huh?
It sucks having all these problems presented to you and being able to identify them as what they are but not having the satisfaction of closure, the happy ending I know at some point I'll be able to tell about in hindsight.

I live that right now.

But that's not what I came here to talk about.
It just comes out.

I relinquish all efforts to exploit such control.

2010-02-28T12:19:00.000-08:00

There comes a time every month or two in this woman's life where it seems like I have many, many great ideas.
I'm full of great ideas.

So fucking what.

I had a midlife crisis this week, I think. I've come to realize that I don't know what I'm doing, or where I'm going. I'm just one of those kids spending my parents money at a big public university with no particular goal in mind.
I have goals, but I can't score all of them. And that seems to somewhat discourage me from scoring any.

But I feel like I need to take a few minutes and just think about everything. Talk about everything. Before I start studying for midterms in classes that I don't even know if I'm gonna need.

Probably the greatest source of discomfort I've been having lately is the inability to trust. The more you trust someone, the more they trust you -- and you learn about them. I feel if you know too much about someone, their tendencies become exacerbated in obviousness because once you have identified these qualities, your perception of them materializes and only grows. So when you know that someone very close to you has betrayed the trust of someone else, it's difficult to not be on guard.

I think for a while, I suppressed the notion of the possibility of being betrayed, and that was very, very comfortable. But I realized that I don't want to live suppressed, and I don't want to be controlled, or at the mercy of the people that I love and fear losing.
I don't want to be a passenger seat driver. I'm a big girl, and I have my own fucking car.
Except I don't, but that's just literally.

So recently, I tried being a little less accommodating and a little more self-serving.
Frankly, it sucks.

I like having something else to live for. But I guess that slipped my mind that ultimately, we all live for our own ends, and it just so happens that my well-being ends depend on the happiness of the others as means.

We create our own stars.

Also I have been thinking a lot about identity and its construction and weather cognition of said construction is something to be frowned upon or respected. We live in a world that's heavy in encouragement of the creation of physical manifestations of the self.

My conclusion is that we live to be perceived.
And it sucks that I've realized this, because now I'm aware that I have some element of control over the way I'm perceived. And I don't like that. I don't want that. I can't handle it. And I relinquish all efforts to exploit such control.

The idea is, that the less one perceives this perception, the better they can fulfill their role of being.
So here we go. Abandon this knowledge, and we're back to square one.
Live. Be.

So said cognition should be neither respected nor frowned upon. But not disregarded. Gauged.
Be in tune.

I have fun. And that's what the fuck I'm doing with my life.
One foot in every door.

Fate implies means, and means implies ends.

2010-01-27T08:30:00.000-08:00

I know I should probably be spending this chunk of the two and a half hours I have before class more wisely than on a blog entry, but my mind has been infiltrated with thoughts and if I don't get them down and out, I won't be able to process anything else today.

Hello collectivity.

Hello bottom-up implementation of societal norms.

Hello web.

I read something very tangible to me today on facebook, of all places.

To keep our faces toward change and behave like free spirits in the presence of fate is strength undefeatable.

I want to delve a little deeper into a specific idea in this quote, and that is the presence of fate.

Let's just talk about the idea of fate.

Fate is defined as "the development of events beyond ones control."

Most of the time, we look at this definition and see "beyond ones control" and if there is any discrepancy with the idea of fate it lies there. Most of the time.

This time, I want to look at the former excerpt, "the development."

Fate is not an end. It's not the hindsight, or the recollection. It's the development.

Fate is the means.

Fate implies means, and means implies ends.

Humans are crazy, crazy creatures. It doesn't take something happening to gather emotions about it, or feelings toward it. It just takes the materialization of the idea.

We are creatures who get by on suppression. Sometimes we are faced with foresight and intuition that we don't like. We get by because we have conditioned ourselves into mastering the art of suppression.

I have, anyway. Maybe I shouldn't speak for all of us.

And it doesn't make me better. That makes me worse.

But who likes to think about the end?

Who likes to think about demise and cessation?

I'm not strong enough.

To believe in fate takes a strength that I don't have.

I am too free.

So here we go: I don't believe in an end, really.

I believe in unity.

I believe everything emulates a brain.

Connections, connections, connections.

Look at the world, at how we operate on a day-to-day basis.

What are you doing RIGHT now? If you're reading this, you're on a computer screen which is connected to a bunch of hardware which is connected to wires which are connected to a wall.

The progress of the world is the exponential growth in connections.

That's beautiful.

Since the beginning of time, we've been trying to make things a little easier. To create order out of chaos, so to speak. This chaotic mess that we're in that some like to call earth, is one big brain that's right in the the middle of evolving.

All of the brains in the world, in the history of humanity, have been collectively working to make...

a big fucking brain.

So what are we? And what's inside our brains that we can't see?

It always goes back to identity with me, doesn't it?

Oldie but a goodie.

2010-01-23T16:13:00.000-08:00

somebody get me out of this box, before I lose dimension and become a square,
I'll fall flat to the ground just like I was never there.

somebody take me to the clouds, give me some perspective, to help me see
that I am but a tiny ant, and the higher I get the closer you are to me.

somebody take me far away, engage me while we're on the interstate.
take me somewhere undisclosed so i don't notice we're driving in figure 8's.

somebody just take control, hold my hand and show me where to go.
I have no ambition or direction, i just know I can't so this on my own.

remind me again why I'm still here,
why I'm a balloon tied to the table. who the hell is on my shoelace and why am I unable
to float away? why wait another year?

I'll abandon it all and reach out my hands,
and just float above the distant lands.

And. Just. Float.

This is intuition.

2010-01-16T16:27:00.000-08:00

Today I thought about the world and how little we came from.

thoughts

There has to be a God.

There's got to be something that understands all.

Maybe God is just the idea of understanding it all, but even that exists somewhere in this multiverse.

Knowledge is crazy to me.

Especially knowledge of the idea that something can exist even though we don't perceive it, though we are born not understanding that.

Maybe humans have different strengths of realization of this simple concept. The point at which we suddenly understand that just because something goes out of sight, it is still there.

Maybe those who are weak are happy.

Maybe those who are strong are intuitive.

Let's fucking paint.

2010-01-15T00:13:00.001-08:00

What I have found.

2010-01-10T14:38:00.000-08:00

Today I'm looking at life as a series of journeys to treasures unknown.

In the last month of so of being home, I have found many, many things that I wish to share.

In my life, I will find more things

And in my life, I will wish to share.

I wish to share.

I have found knowledge. As children, we are bound by confines of finite understanding no less than we are now, but we lack perception of such confines and can thus not further our knowledge with that filter. When we are children, things are true, or untrue. Black and white.

And it is only when we understand the greyscale and all the colors of the rainbow that we can begin to learn.

I have found humility. The bounty of knowledge is impressive, vast, powerful, but mostly humbling. Through discovering how few things I know, and how few ways I know them, I have come to realize that I'm a speck of sand on the oceanside.

I have found security. I can adapt and be happy without most things in my life, provided I continue to suppress the adaptations to having them. I don't need to look down. I don't need to judge. I'm better than that.

I've found harmony. It is interesting to draw the parallel between my style of music creation and my interactional tendencies with people. I find myself drawing certain aspects more out of myself depending on the environment I am. I am multifaceted and multi-interested. My way of living is harmony.

I will create. I will experience. I will share. I will learn. I will grow. I will love and be loved.

Well everything I write is a question.

2009-12-16T19:19:00.001-08:00

Well, I'm home. It seems I'm taking a vacation from this journey I've started without you. I'm searching for truth for you. I'm writing it down for you.
But everything I write is a question.

I may argue, I may speak unilaterally but the truth is that I forge convictions.
I may be close to realizing that I don't believe in answers.

I wish I could say that I've lived for you what I've kept you from, I wish I could deliver you answers, conclusions, certainty in these precious moments of your life -- but all I have are questions.
I've missed you.

But Julia helped me to realize something.
Every picture perfect thing she did, every scripted thing she said, it was a perfect portrayal of who she wanted to be. She played it perfectly. She knew she played it well. And she construed it as security. There was no discrepancy between her and her ideal self. She was content because she played her role in such away that achieved the perfect balance between art and accuracy. Julia was an artist and an engineer. Julia was a character.
We are all characters. Every person I've met that walks this planet is a mirror image of the lives they've lived, the people they've encountered. We do what we see. We are what we see.
People will try to convince you that there's more to them than their actions. But we run what we do by our egos -- and we do what we are.
But love, are we what we do?

Expose? People guard their identities and protect their secrets and build and build on these things until there are whole parts of them that are perceived by no one but themselves. Is this who we are? Is this fabricated set of ego foundations the revered and acclaimed self that we pride ourselves on possessing?
Do we possess this?
And for every bit of knowledge, is there someone, somewhere who doesn't want it to be percieved?
Whose duty is it to expose? And whose is it to advocate?

Every question is an opportunity. An opportunity to recognize, to plan, to implement, and to evaluate. To come closer to arriving at an answer, which I have come to find is often no more than a slightly more specific question.
Tell me, how close is close enough?
Is it close enough to have the question lying asleep cradled in your arms?

I am cradled. I have always been cradled, but I am only one.
My hand has always been held and my soil has always been rich. I have been nourished and manicured. And weaned into growth. I have been imprisoned, but before I could realize it, was set free.

I have been taught to lean, but not to fall. I have been taught to bargain, and to never sell myself short. I have been taught to ask, but not to answer.
In fact, there are either infinite things that I am or am not, or there is nothing that I am or am not.
I am all or nothing.

Oh love, are we all, or are we nothing?

Defeated

2009-12-02T16:58:00.001-08:00

Good morning, beautiful, haven't a coffee. Have a headache. Have a workload. Haven't a shoulder to lean on. Haven't any money.

When you only ask to feel a little better than slighted.
When the food's bad, you're cold, and there's no heater.
When you're stressed.
When you've been used and what goes around isn't making its way back around.
When the light at the end of the tunnel is visible, but dim and dull.
When you're straight up in limbo.

You know it's a bad day.

Everything I have touched today has turned to shit.
Every pick-me-up has brought me back down.
It's not funny anymore, I usually laugh this shit off.
But today, it's not fucking funny.

I don't even know what else to say. I can usually find comfort in my own thoughts and ramblings because no one can tell me that they're untrue. But today comfort is nowhere.
I don't have time to hit reset, dad. I can't do that today. I have grades to make.

Let the patheticness of this post be indicative of mood.
Done.

Sleepless nights.

2009-11-10T22:29:00.000-08:00

And that's the fucking truth, it's simple and easy.
It's the way it never is, but it's the way that it should be.

Lyricising has been happening a lot lately in this very room where I sit, tired but restless, exhausted but sleepless in a pile of blankets and unorganized thoughts.
I have a test tomorrow. But my deviation from the normal [out-till-one having hella fun with awesome kids] mentality has been fucking with me emotionally.

I hope that's what it is. God I hope this feeling of unaccomplished stress is just an [I-have-a-test-tomorrow-so-I-haven't been having enough fun lately] kind of thing. Crazy how things take it's toll.

I spent a lot of time in the past few days thinking about the delicate balance between fun time and alone time. I think I achieved the balance last week when I saw Jupiter from the top of the RLM building and followed friends to the art building to waste time just...being. Those are the kinds of things you live to tell about. Not the 96 on the psych test. Don't get me wrong. That shit's awesome, and I need to do that. But I will NOT sacrifice growing and learning and BEING experience for that calibrated bullshit.

Oh yeah, I went there. Thought I've been having a lot. Calibration. What bullshit. Who's to say you can demonstrate your thorough knowledge of a subject by spitting out exactly what learning objectives one professor thinks you should know. I'm not blaming the professor. I'm blaming society for not realizing the irony in using a system of simplification (A/B scale) to measure depth of understanding.

Always get to thinking about that. One time I met someone who agreed before I ever introduced the idea. "Maybe we're the idiots, because we see what's going on, but we still submit to it."

On the other hand, I don't want to be a sinking boat. I don't want anyone to be a sinking boat.
I know a sinking boat. I just didn't know he was sinking.
I wish he wasn't sinking. But I think all I can do is wish.

I have to be content with myself before I can invest said self into anyone else, right?
And I know where I want to invest that self.

But I digress.

The point of this blog was to say last week was awesome and this week, so far, is not.
And to put me to sleep.
I might not sleep well until I feel like myself again.

Khuda fuz.

Defining the Line

2009-09-30T18:07:00.000-07:00

Remember that one time I started a blog and thought I would be able to keep up with it?
Ha. Right.

I'm going to spare myself from spewing the minor details surrounding the bridges I've built and burned and crossed and that have fallen and crumbled and come undone.
I've come undone.

I'm a lady. It's recently dawned on me that I'm a lady. Like, I know I'm a fucking girl and shit. But I'm also a lady. I get special privileges. I get shotty without having to claim it. I get into parties. I make eyes and score free things. You know, the things that matter?

It's also recently occurred to me that, since I'm a lady, I don't get the thrill of romantic pursuit.
Since I'm a lady, if I do the seeking, I'm a pathetic desperate bitch.
I don't feel that way, but the simple truth is that I'd much rather feel bored and uncomplicated than as if I was looked upon as a dumb slut.

Boys get fucking everything. I think I know where Beyonce was coming from with that dumb ass shitty "if I were a boy" song. It's so ridiculous though. No matter how much I hang out with the bros, sit like a bro, talk like a bro, I can't escape the confines of this "lady" bullshit.
I'm really mad at the women before us who decided to sit pretty and cook and clean and sew and fuck while the guys were out pursuing exactly what they wanted, and getting it.

And to think people say we've evolved as a people. Ha. Letting guys pay for us. Open fucking doors for us. Walking on the inside of the street. Waiting for them to call us. Getting pretty for them. Socially, everything we do that makes us women is to cater to the wants of guys.

I know I'm not the first one to think this. That's why I'm not going to be on the spectrum -- the one that has these subservient ignoramuses on one side and the radically dike-y barely-humans on the other side.

My solution to this, which I feel would maximize personal gain, is to disregard the spectrum altogether. Disregard the rules and the spectrum and seek what I want, like humans naturally do, and would, were they not conditioned to feel like they had to set limits on their desires. As if greed is a bad thing.

Don't get me wrong though. I know that taking chances means passing others up. And I fully expect for that to happen.

It's funny. I've been working on this fucking blog for like 2 days now. When I started writing it, I was joined outside Big Bite by a really wise friend of mine who gave me a lot of insight as far as gender roles and romantic pursuit and even sex goes.

With that, a paragraph about sex. Word is I've been missing out on some bomb-ass sex. But whatever. I like my chastity or whatever you call it. I honestly feel like it gives me the power to know that whoever I'm with likes me for who I am. And no one I've ever cared about is worth submitting that power to, honestly.

It's been a good weekend so far. Last night I sat on a couch. Honestly, that's all I did. But it's awesome. The room is clean, my inbox is accounted for, all my tests are done, my daddy's in a good way with the job sitch. I haven't felt this stress-free since I moved to Austin.
As much as I love this city, there's a lot of responsibility that has to be exhibited with all there is to do.

Anyway, I've had a lot more thoughts other than this feminism bullshit, but this is thematic and recurring. I feel like I've moved forward and acquired more conviction and I'm totally cool with who I am and the way I am.

Feels good, man.

It's complicated.

2009-09-08T09:03:00.001-07:00

"Your flaunt cut my fingers in half--why are we eating these insane spirit chips? I've known Amalie since never. A statue is a thing a note with nodes would know. There's a bracket in my brain where thoughts should be. This night is a beef stew with too many ladles, I need this clever concentration."

I'd like to take a moment to appeal to artists. In the moments after our heads hit the pillow, when all of the days reminiscences are marinating in emotion and stimuli, we experience a few moments of consciousness where we inevitably stumble upon a fantastic idea that we're simply too tired to get up and write down. It's far too pleasant a state of relaxation to overcome the thoughts that are telling us that it's too great of an idea to forget by morning. So we go to sleep, let our dreams carry to distant lands, and never stumble upon this idea again until the next night when it happens all over again, and we realize we have no recollection of the magic that was happening in our minds the night before.

Last night, I won.

The "artistic ideas" are at the top of this post in quotes. What the fuck, right?

I don't know yet. I hope to find out. I feel like I must be capable of knowing the origin of these thoughts, because they came from my mind. But I'm not sure how to access them.

I guess the reason I'm posting this is because all this time, when I thought I was having incredibly deep thoughts and making artistic love with my brain, I was really spewing subconscious nonsense. The phenomenon, I would argue, lies in the regard with which we hold these pre-sleep ideas. I guess the brain being switched off kind of has its own implications there... but it's still sort of hard to say. I don't know much about the brain, but I'm pretty sure the ability to type this into my phone makes me more awake than if I hadn't. So I don't know how much of the conscious thought is contaminated with subconscious or unconscious thought.

The fact is that it's still my thoughts. And whether they were conscious or not--let's hope not--they mean nothing to me at this moment in time.

It's hard to say. I guess I rest my case. It's funny though. A beef stew with too many ladles?

New Perspective

2009-08-25T22:47:00.000-07:00

Hello, blog.

Despite mono, I made it to college three days before class started. Turns out I'm too well to be a sick person. Still not fully recovered though, give me another couple of weeks. Maybe I'll start a fitness regime or some shit like that. Probably not.

This life is surreal.

My camera broke. I'm not sure if I care too much. I understand that a picture says a thousand words, but in the meantime, here are some captions or whatever.

My family plus Trent unload boxes from the car to the cart to the dorm. Everything begins to look settled.

"Ami, Jake won't come out of the study lounge because he's too sad that you're leaving."

My family plus Trent and Tracie gather around the beach themed waterside restaurant table and enjoy fajitas. See also: the Last Supper.

My father's eyes well up and we embrace and time freezes as I realize, this is growing up.

Lights are bright and shit is trippy. But I'm with my girls, that's all that matters.

Running shorts + backpack + pedestrian = college.

It's always sunny in Philidelphia.

Best friends and their roomies and suities. Best Gyro Ever. $4.82 Enough said.

Slushee run leads to Neda's apartment leads to kitty cat rescue mission leads back home. Sabeena sleeping leads to me in Trent's room, leads to me lulling him to sleep with my guitar, leads to finding something else to do. Leads to a random apartment with a kid I barely know, leads to good company, leads to 4am sleep-drunkenness. Impulsive and whimsical, how it ought to be.

Book fail, book success, salad with celery. Realize I've lost all sense of time. I need sleep.

Floor party in the lounge, guitar party number one.

Communications party. "Oh." Free pizza.

Asian food, of which I have none.

The Tower is illuminated, hands are in the air with the band music. I'm a Longhorn.

Jammie Jam in laundry room. Me, Trace, our guitars, our voices, whoever else. Tuesday nights at 8. Made it a thing.

The Diegos. Gotta love them europeans, amirite?

I couldn't think of a better way to do this. I need to start remembering when I have thoughts beyond mere observation of superficial analysis.

But no need to ferment too much. I like this high.

Bis dann.

Ready for take-off?

2009-08-15T16:05:00.000-07:00

No, I am not.

This should be a blog about having cold feet, or being scared of the unknown and what's to come. About how I'm about to spread my wings and embark on the biggest journey of my life. About how for the first time in my life, I'm going to experience the world without a shock collar. About how I'm going to learn things about myself and how I'm completely scared of who I might turn out to be.

In a parallel universe where I didn't contract mono, it probably would be.

But it's not.

It's mono-world. In this world I find myself waking up at rude hours of the night, flipping furiously through the cable channels in search of something that doesn't cause tangible damage to my brain. I pop 3 800mg ibuprofen pills to keep my throat and head from stacking enormous quantities of pain on top of the fatigue that I'm inevitably experiencing. I scour the internet for advice, tips, any sort of information I can get on this horrible illness characterized by uncertainty and unpredictability.

I sit while I am "lysol"ed, trying not to vocalize my borderline offense.

It's funny cause in the corner of this bedroom are all my belongings, strategically placed in crates and boxes, taunting me with the reminder that I'm supposed to be leaving in 3 days, moving in on my own, beginning the nesting process.

Meeting with my counselor, figuring my schedule out.

But I haven't the energy.

Even if I do physically heal, and this happens, I still feel drained of mental energy. So it's like some more watered down tired version of me is experiencing this move.

Not me.

I'm interested to see how this all plays out.

Until then, CNBC marijuana documentaries.