And I have learned
That even landlocked lovers yearn
For the sea like navy men
‘Cause now we say goodnight
From our own separate sides
Like brothers on a hotel bed.
- Death Cab for Cutie, Brothers on a Hotel Bed
Archive for the 'Uncategorized' Category
Raccoons and why the earth seems to stand still when you are in a room without windows.
Published March 11, 2009 Uncategorized Leave a CommentI opened the refrigerator door and stared at the brightly-lit insides for about two minutes.
It’s difficult to love invisible things.
I closed the refrigerator door, made my way into the other kitchen, and opened the other refrigerator. The Korean chicken barbeque was in a glass Pyrex dish. The soup was in a glass Pyrex bowl. I pulled the bowl out first, subconsicously slamming it down on the table.
There are two things I am: ridiculously sensitive, and ridiculously ideal.
Not as ideal now as I was before, mind you. And twice as pessimistic. Still pretty sensitive, but I will never admit to people that I am sad, unless the reason is quite obvious, and unless I need to. Sometimes, it is better to keep everything inside and store your pain in a little glass box and label it DNE. It works unless you’re someone who tends to overthink things.
Which I am. Sadly. Somehow, my train of thought led to God again, a while ago. Haha.
It’s a trivial speck of an issue, this thing that I am griping about, but it points to a bigger picture.
I feel so disconnected, but outside-Hannah (head knowledge Hannah–the one who is sensible) tells me that this feeling is baseless and nonsense and My, my, what a sensitive little thing you are. Again. As always. I follow head knowledge Hannah. She spares the rest of my friends hours and hours of unimportant whining, she spares them wasted time.
Cy stopped walking. We were on the way to the library. He looked at me. I was complaining that Joanna got hugs, and I did not. “You don’t cry to me.” he stated.
I looked up, raised an eyebrow. “No, I don’t.”
I’m inside another box. That box is on an island, that island is a legend on a map, the existence of which is also a legend. I have to wait for some pirate to find me before I’m eaten by crabs. Before I die of starvation. Before I simply decide not to exist.
It is times like these that the what-if scenarios mill through my head.
Head knowledge Hannah says there are better things to think about. More things that need to be finished, and better ways to spend your time so–Get off the internet and rearrange your priorities, you’re not yet done.
—
She folds her arms and stares down at me, and there I am, liquid everywhere, scrutinized under every kind of light. She puts her fingers to my face and rearranges it.
:3
Hannah, barging into the room: “How does one lose a t-square?!”
Patricia: “When one is Hannah.”
It’s amazing how one feeling can completely erase another. And how you can force yourself to stay awake and wait. Amazing how you look back and realize how much everything has changed. And amazing because a few things stay the same. (Am I getting redundant? The answer is yes.) Sometimes I see myself as the female lead role in a slightly harem anime, where you just have to inflict pain on the loveable and occasionally dense, all too charming guy. I wish I could. But nah. :3 (too much Zero no Tsukaima. Sigh.)
Well, there’s one thing I finished this summer. The purple journal my aunt gave me last summer, while we were in Virginia. I looked at it as something to entertain myself with–just another notebook that would prolly get lost and collect dust, as with all the other journals and diaries which have been forgotten. But this one stuck and grew on me, and now that it’s finished and gone, I can’t help but feel a little empty and lonely and –
Yes, I’m beginning to sound weird. But really, it isn’t the same. I’m the type who needs a journal to pour out emotion, to rant angrily, to vent out the things that few can see. It isn’t the same, entering words into this little white window, where everyone can read, where most abandon emotion and write about more relevant things: politics and school and celebrities and global warming.
Before, only the purple journal with gold letters saw the rapidly changing course of my feelings. Eventually, not only journal saw. But now, when both are gone (well, not technically, but still.) I can’t help but feel a little lost–
 |
You scored as Artsy Career. You are perfect for careers such as dancer, artist, writer, or actor. You love to be creative and express yourself. You are independent and a dreamer.
Your Future Profession |
Block A-1
Monday-Thursday
8:30-12:00 Arch 1
1:30-3:30 Arch 10
3:30-6:30 Arch 2
Wednesday
7:00-9:00 Basic Social Dancing 
Tuesday-Friday
8:30-10:00 Math 11
11:30-1:00 Anthro 10
1:00-2:30 SocSci1
4:00-5:30 CW10
This is the sked i’m hoping to get. 
Every time the dream girl is mentioned, I take note and subliminally compile the extra qualities I now have to live up to. Then, upon realizing that I can never become those thingsa and be my real self at the same time, I turn my frustration into paper and ink. My brain shifts into defensive mode, and adjectives fly. He isn’t the only one with dreams.
Soon, a sketch is in place. Several, actually. I examine his face. Cute. An athletic frame, with laughing eyes and a gentle smile. And that messed up hair every fangirl loves too much. He’s a journalist, or perhaps a psychologist. (All I know is that he isn’t one of those weird FA guys like Avid Liongoren) And! He is a gentleman with a huge sweet tooth. o_o Who appreciates blueberry cheesecake and Terry Pratchett books. By this time, I ask, does this guy even exist? By this time, paper and ink are gone. And then I realize that this small-fisted rebellion was quite silly. After all, God’s perfect choice has already been made. But for that I must wait and see. 
