You mean you can't take ''less''," said the Hatter: "it's very easy to take ''more'' than nothing. — Alice In Wonderland.

Labels: alice in wonderland, apathetic, bad habits, books, friendships, i don't fucking know., life, perks of being a wallflower, reflections, relationships, wasting time

“Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Chops"
because that was the name of his dog
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and a gold star
And his mother hung it on the kitchen door
and read it to his aunts
That was the year Father Tracy
took all the kids to the zoo
And he let them sing on the bus
And his little sister was born
with tiny toenails and no hair
And his mother and father kissed a lot
And the girl around the corner sent him a
Valentine signed with a row of X's
and he had to ask his father what the X's meant
And his father always tucked him in bed at night
And was always there to do it
Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Autumn"
because that was the name of the season
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and asked him to write more clearly
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because of its new paint
And the kids told him
that Father Tracy smoked cigars
And left butts on the pews
And sometimes they would burn holes
That was the year his sister got glasses
with thick lenses and black frames
And the girl around the corner laughed
when he asked her to go see Santa Claus
And the kids told him why
his mother and father kissed a lot
And his father never tucked him in bed at night
And his father got mad
when he cried for him to do it.

Once on a paper torn from his notebook
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Innocence: A Question"
because that was the question about his girl
And that's what it was all about
And his professor gave him an A
and a strange steady look
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because he never showed her
That was the year that Father Tracy died
And he forgot how the end
of the Apostle's Creed went
And he caught his sister
making out on the back porch
And his mother and father never kissed
or even talked
And the girl around the corner
wore too much makeup
That made him cough when he kissed her
but he kissed her anyway
because that was the thing to do
And at three a.m. he tucked himself into bed
his father snoring soundly
That's why on the back of a brown paper bag
he tried another poem
And he called it "Absolutely Nothing"
Because that's what it was really all about
And he gave himself an A
and a slash on each damned wrist
And he hung it on the bathroom door
because this time he didn't think
he could reach the kitchen.”
― Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

Labels: alone, bad days, books, death, depression, escapism, growing up, innocence, letting go, life, lost, love, perks of being a wallflower, poem, quotes, sad

This morning started out bad from the moment my crappy old phone started going off. I still use my old phone as an alarm since I haven't been as proactive as I should be about calling T-Mobile to get my plan fixed so I can use a new phone. Somehow the option to turn off the alarm didn't work and I was really just too exhausted to look through the phone. I ended up snoozing the phone at least 60 times. It was a bit obscure since it goes off every minute after I press snooze. I was basically in zombie mode while it kept going off for over an hour. I had the phone in my hand and instinctively pressed snooze every minute and getting another 59 seconds of shut eye. Momo has been jumping off the bed in the middle of the night lately also then end up barking at me to pick her back up on the bed multiple times a night. Its been happening a lot lately, shes killing me. I'm usually too tired to get mad about it but its getting on my nerves now that I think about it in a fully conscious state.

I added 'Mary Stayed Out All Night Long' (thanks A) to my list of 10 different things I'm watching at the same time. I'm boring. Lately I haven't been doing anything but trying to write down my entries to help with my memory and organizing my thoughts or watching random things. Even just trying to write down my day in a manner that's somewhat comprehensible is becoming a chore. On the other hand I guess it does help me organize my thoughts a bit. I'm required to talk to a therapist because of a breakdown I had a while back and she mentioned that I seem to be able to at least identify a bit more of what I need or want to say. In response, I told her its simply because I've been chronicling my thoughts and days like a little girl in writing so I basically repeat a majority of what I've already come to recognize. Next time I should just print my entries and email it to her, save myself the entire session of paraphrasing my entries to her.

Nothing extravagant or exciting as usual. Especially when I get off night shifts I just let something play as I write. This drama is another one of those lighthearted romantic comedies involving a poor girl, indie rock star and a rich guy. A bit cliche but I'm actually enjoying it even though I've only got through a few episodes so far. I hope it doesn't get too annoying complicated with misunderstandings like they always do in Korean dramas. There isn't any actors in this series I can't stand to watch so I'm not constantly annoyed at a specific character simply because I hate the actress. Jang Geun Suk from You're Beautiful is one of the mean leads in this as well. So that's plus points for eye candy. Oh, so this song came on in the drama and I've had it on repeat since, it's so addicting.

I can't seem to find the actual clip of him performing it in the drama, but this will have to do. Just look at the guy, Korean Hyde!
I hate it when rock stars stand there like a log and sing. It's boring, so either their voice must be pretty fucking awesome or you don't do that, doesn't really work out live anyway. Hes a really good performer on stage, I'd go to his performance if he did a live in NYC. Just kinda makes me miss going to indie performances at bars and lounges. Why don't I do that anymore. I really think this guy should start a rock band. Hands down, I swear hes the Korean version of Hyde. Hes a good performer and I love his voice. Soft spot for guys with slightly deep raspy voices like that? I don't know. Ideally the super Korean rock band = him as a Vocalist + guitarist and No Min Woo as the drummer or guitarist. Would be perfect.

When I talk about how attractive I think someone is whether they're male or female it always brings me back to a conversation I had with a friend.


Friend:
Have you ever had a moment where...
you see this incredibly attractive person and you just think to yourself,
"Oh damn... I'd do em"?
I mean "I'd do em"
You don't know the person
Me:
Hmm not specifically that,
I mean if someone is attractive I would acknowledge that they're attractive...
Friend:
but have you ever had a moment like oh damn...
i'd do him not just acknowledgement
Me:
No, I don't think so
It's not like my ovaries is tingling or anything
and I'm thinking I'd do him
Friend: wth...wtf?! LOL
Me: Female version of a boner?

I'd like to add the disclaimer that occasional rock star fangirling doesn't count since its not going to happen.

I really should start going to strand or other indie used book stores in person instead of ordering used books online. The shipping fees + book itself is starting to add up even at a reduced price. I still haven't gotten around to ordering Lolita by: Vladimir Nabokov and The Tale of the Rose: The Passion That Inspired The Little Prince by: Consuelo de Saint-Exupery yet. I should just go hunting for them in bookstores I usually wander around in, but it's such a headache trying to pin down a specific book I still haven't figured out the system they use to organize and section the books. Being me, I refuse to talk to an employee because I just don't like asking for assistance when it comes to purchasing things, because its personal. Asking someone for a book I want to read is pretty much equivalent to asking some random dude who works at a pharmacy wheres the tampons or something of that nature to me. I don't know why.


Then there's the pile of books I'm still reading. I don't know why I still couldn't bring myself to finish Momo yet. Its almost as if I'm afraid to find out how its going to end. Reading it is making me crazy depress about the corporate world. Or maybe I do have ADHD or something because I can't seem to stick to watching 1 thing or reading 1 thing at a time. It's always at least 5 different things of the same activity at a time. In fact, that applies to pretty much everything I do, I just get myself tangled up in everything I do. Can't be arsed to try and find out though. I rather live in blissful ignorance.

I'm starting to notice that a lot of places started removing mirrors from the ladies' room especially public places. Very smart, but it sucks for us. I guess its so there won't be a mile long lines for the restroom since women probably spent more time in front of the mirror fixing their makeup than actually using the bathroom. It really doesn't take that long to pee.

It's December... I really hope it snows more soon. The one thing I never get sick of about NYC is the city during Christmas. I miss having a coffee in the middle of a freezing street, people watching, slow walks and talks or just breathing in the piercing cold but refreshing air. I haven't had the chance to walk down the city streets with all the decorative lights this year yet. The notion of it is just nostalgic to me and holds so many memories. I'd like to do that more often with the year coming to an end soon whether its by myself and with another person.

Labels: books, christmas, dramas, media, nyc, random, sleep

I write like I think and... English was never one of my strong subjects. It gets worst, after I write an entry I keep re-reading it and editing it. Minor mistakes and the fact that I can't articulate a sentence at all keeps my OCD going. Read, edit, read, edit, get distracted, read, edit, read, "you're such a fucking idiot", rage quit. Then repeat. How do people go about this. I feel like I just shot myself in the fucking foot for doing this. Everything bothers me.

Starting a blog was suppose to be an outlet for me to vent. Just for myself so I can clear my mind and organize my thoughts. Apparently Dumbledore had a bowl that holds his memories for him, he just deposits it like its a fucking memory bank or something. Where can I get one of those? I wasn't sure where to begin so I started writing down random things are running through my head. I can't keep up with my mind at all. If only my days were more eventful. I'd have something to chronicle my life journeys and my awesome youthful years about. I laughed at myself writing that. It's just so my content isn't entirely me talking to myself, spewing my opinions all over the place and skipping topics. Yeah, because my feelings and opinions are more important than yours. At least here.

Labels: books, death, drama, hate

Grandma you are wrong. The answer to sleeping isn't counting sheeps, but I'll forgive because you're an old fashion lady. Plus I find it rather cute when I imagine you counting sheeps when you try to sleep. But you see, counting sheeps doesn't help and I can't seem to keep up with the damn numbers. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 11, uh what the fuck...where am I up to again? I wonder who came up with the stupid idea of counting sheeps anyway. Fuck. Now I'll have to get up and google this. The monitor is blinding. It's actually more work trying to keep track of whatever the fuck number you're on than to just settle and be a cabbage for the night. What haven't I done out of desperation. Great, now my head hurts because my memory has been shit. I don't really know what to blame that on to be honest. It maybe because I try not to think too much and slowly my brain has become dysfunctional. I didn't want to believe those pricks who preach that education should always be continuous. If you've been out of school for too long, you'll never go back. Fuck it, I don't want to believe it. Not until I really try and ultimately fail, then I may come to terms with it. I'm still holding on by a string but not going for it entirely because trying actually means I'll find out once and for all if I'm actually hopeless after all. It's already on my to do list. Now I just have to grow some balls and actually do it.

In the other hand, it may be the excessive ambien use, or the nights when I forget and take a couple more like it's candy. I'm addicted, but I'm more addicted to the idea of actually having a piece of mind that I'll be able to sleep and not think to myself staring at the ceiling until the sunrises. Not that morning would make a difference, it'd just be annoyingly bright. I'm never fully asleep or awake. If somehow I live long enough, I wonder whats the next 20 years of my life going to be like. Thoughts that preoccupy most of my days is "how am I going to get to sleep tonight?" Well, I don't want to spend my entire fucking day worrying about how I'm going to sleep. It's a natural process, I should be able to do it. Sleep is my handicap. Just go the fuck to sleep. Not working.

It simply started with me trying her prescription. It was fucking magic. I've never been put out like that, sleep whenever you want? What the hell? Best thing since sliced bread. It's my cure for cancer. She never fought me about it either, mostly because she was never around or had the time to confront me. She knew I was doing it, I just gave her constant excuses of how it'll help me get my life together. It didn't, it just helped me get through the day knowing, "If I just get through this shit, at least I can call it a day", then shut myself off at my convenience. Fucking perfect.

Then there was the night I broke down, I called her. And you can bet I freaked the fuck out. I was hysterical. Just jabbering on about how I can't take it anymore. She told me she couldn't enable me anymore. That she realized she's helping me kill myself. I hated her and resented her so much, for not buying into my bullshit. She said I needed help or at least go in for a check up. It went from screaming and anger to crying. Both of us. I haven't seen you cry in a long time. I don't know if I cried because it was the first time since I was hospitalized that she showed she cared about me, its been 6 years since then. Or if I was crying because I resented her and most of what I can think about is how can she do this to me. How can she let me stay in this hell, this shithole I dug myself into. I did this to myself, but what haven't I tried. I finally found an answer but it wasn't the solution.



But hey, guess what? I still fucking love you. You just don't know it.

I guess it's kind of like men who have sex without a condom for the first time. They never want to use it again after that experience but that's how you fuck your life up. Kids, ew. Well, in my case, I had my first taste, found a temporary cure but it fucked me over anyway. Kids without the kids! I don't know what the hell I'm talking about.

After a week of cleaning, yes cleaning and you know what that means. Apocalypse now. I finally got hauled off to the doctor. I've always avoided doctors, I was registered under my pediatrician since I was 5 until I was 20, hah. He still doesn't know anything about me. You're a good man, just stop trying to give me tylenol for everything. The man would give me tylenol if I showed up in his office with a bullet right in me. Stop patronizing me because of age, life or future. It's already fucked up. The last thing he said to me was "Wow, you've really grown into a woman now." And that was the last time I saw him. I'm such an asshole, I should have bought him some chocolates or whatever doctors enjoy eating. Organic chocolates? Spinach and caviar? Who the hell knows.

I transferred to one of those ancient doctors who should have checked out long ago, but it's ok, we won't be seeing eachother much. He's this old man that's always nodding and repeatedly saying "hokay...mhm.." then sighed occasionally nodding his head. I still wonder if he knows what the fuck I'm trying to tell him half the time. It's impersonal, but it's ok. I'm not trying to be your best friend, just fix me. At least physically. So I got a referral. Lo and behold, I got put on the same shit. It's ok, it was what I was aiming for anyway, but I've been looking for something different. These pills aren't working anymore.

Sorry, I'm a bastard. Just please be happy yourself. I'll try to pretend to be normal for you. I know times were hard.

I've been experimenting with different medicine that may help me sleep and finally tamper off ambien. Unfortunately my psychiatrist is a grimmy bitch. Well, she wasn't to begin with but as of the day before yesterday, she is.

"I can't put you on both of these medicines because they can become addictive so we have to work out which one you need to be on."  Okay, that's fine, you're just going to torture me for another month trying different garbage to cover your ass. It's the system, whatever. Then comes the part that fucking blew my mind. I was speechless. "Also, because your father was an alcoholic, you'd probably be more susceptible to getting addicted to things easily." ...really?

What. The. Fuck.  I never use anything recreationally on a consistently and I've tried most of the shit out there multiple times. If I were to be prone to addiction, I'd be a fucking head banging hallucinating cracked out hippie by now. It's boring, I don't care for any of it.  What I do care about, is not being fucking miserable all day trying to get by the hour. For that, I will try just about anything even if it includes someone punching me in the face to knock me out cold. Oh wait, there is one thing or a few things I have no self control about: procrastination, competitively gaming and smoking. I acknowledged it and quit playing anything all together. Damn, can't be fucking pro now but none of those bad habits will lead me to waking up naked in a poncho at some dump. So it's all good. Really, it's all good. Not really.

I wasn't sure if I should have flipped the fuck out right there, throw a fit or have a tantrum. I was at lost for words and my mind went blank. It wasn't until after I left the office that the scenario kept playing in my head over and over again. As usual, best fucking broken record ever. Now in addition to resenting her and being bitter, I also get to hate myself. I should have said something. Why can't you fucking just say it. "It's okay if you want to use my well-being, my life or my yet to exist future as an excuse. But do not fucking associate or put me in the same category as my father. You should know better than to say this to your patients. You should take your PhD and shove it up your ass." Nope, I was just dumbfounded and left. And now I can't forgive myself, "so why didn't you say shit, captain courage?" ..fuck you brain.

Labels: books, death, drama, failure, hate, kamekaze girls, ozaki, sports, yoko kanno

I write like I think and... English was never one of my strong subjects. It gets worst, after I write an entry I keep re-reading it and editing it. Minor mistakes and the fact that I can't articulate a sentence at all keeps my OCD going. Read, edit, read, edit, get distracted, read, edit, read, "you're such a fucking idiot", rage quit. Then repeat. How do people go about this. I feel like I just shot myself in the fucking foot for doing this. Everything bothers me.

Starting a blog was suppose to be an outlet for me to vent. Just for myself so I can clear my mind and organize my thoughts. Apparently Dumbledore had a bowl that holds his memories for him, he just deposits it like its a fucking memory bank or something. Where can I get one of those? I wasn't sure where to begin so I started writing down random things are running through my head. I can't keep up with my mind at all. If only my days were more eventful. I'd have something to chronicle my life journeys and my awesome youthful years about. I laughed at myself writing that. It's just so my content isn't entirely me talking to myself, spewing my opinions all over the place and skipping topics. Yeah, because my feelings and opinions are more important than yours. At least here.

Labels: books, death, drama, hate