Summer rain

For the record, the weather today is cloudy with occasional bursts of light summer rain and the general mood is... serene?
I'm thinking how I love this weather. With the sun not blinding you and the heat not being unbearable. I feel like sitting next to the balcony where my piano is and just play all day. Or read. I feel like reading. Or just staring, outside, with the soft breeze playing with my hair.
I'm listening to the soothing tones of Jason Mraz and thinking about how ungrateful I can be sometimes. True, I could be loads better than this, but I could be shit loads worse.
At least, where I am right now, my mind is in the right place.
And I'm thinking, life is as good or as bad as you decide for it to be. Perception is key.
And I'm thinking, where is there that's not cold but not too hot? I want to go live there...

Gravity

Back to earth. I've just been paragliding. Ah - the rush. And I always knew I had this thing with heights. It's somewhere between the fear of falling and the scarily vivid desire to fling myself off. All is good.
What's next?

Rant

It's my mother's birthday tomorrow. And I can't help but feel a little bad at feeling so pissed off about the whole thing. Well - not pissed off really. But annoyed. Extremely. Yeah - annoyed would be a better suited word. And it's not like I'm this colossal bitch, but the parent is counting on me to make her day. Like it's my responsibility.
Everybody expects something or another from me, and what I feel like is frothing angrily and flipping everyone off.
I love my mother. Mostly. But what people seem to willingly ignore is that I barely have time to do things for myself, let alone plan birthdays. This is the first year in my life where I've even planned my own.
Besides. I'm sick of being nice to people and having nothing in return. I guess what this makes me is one angry bitch.
What with resuming my studies and constantly moving around and having a job that's doing my head in and meeting my friends and just generally trying to work things out while getting more that two hours sleep, the last thing I need is this.
And I don't really have a point here. I'm just ranting.
I want to live somewhere where I'm allowed to be mean.
God, the general atmosphere here is stifling.
Relatives kill your mojo.
What a drag.

Giddy

The highlight of my day yesterday was me last night, on the bus on my way to, well, work. Up comes this guy. Well, girl really. Transvestite is the right word. And s/he was really trying hard. I mean, you could obviously see the muscles, and the prominent Adam's apple, but the leg shaving was meticulous and she had a boyfriend already. Black, curl wig and bright red lipstick, she was doing anything she possibly could to make herself noticed. How is that? If you can't hide who you are, you might as well be the centre of all the attention.
And people on the bus, there were whispering and snickering and then there was me, my heart was thumping wildly praying, please God, let her talk to me. I'm just so instantly drawn to people who're just so blatantly different.
As if by sheer force of will ( or maybe it was just the universe being kind to the girl in front of me who had horrible hair which, I was quite worried to discover, I was seriously contemplating giving a pull), the guy next to me left and there it was. An empty seat.
And then this queen, she sits next to me, puts her phone on speaker, looks at me and starts singing along to Marylin Monroe's 'Diamonds', I shit you not. I obviously did not need any more pushing about and started flailing my hands to the beat, singing along.
God, I was temporarily in heaven. And then people were looking at me too, but I just directed my beaming smile towards them and carried on singing.
Diamonds are, after all, a girl's best friend.
I just want to befriend that person so bad... I envy people who can abnormally stand out like that. I'm obviously not going to do anything extreme like blowing half my face off to grotesquely stand out, but having people unable to help themselves looking at you like you're some social misfit ( which you are)... Utopia.
And I don't know if I'm really interested in the personality or just intrigued by the change process. Maybe both. I wonder what it feels like to have a social experiment of a friend. God, I'd be the bestest friend ever. Doting over her, teaching her make up tricks, helping her take care of her new fake boobs....
Am I sick...? I don't think I am. I'm just intrigued by the force of nature these personalities are...
O well...
A girl can only hope.
And sing ... 'A kiss on the hand may be quite continental, but diamonds are a girl's best friend...'

Pensieri

Indifference, I think, is self induced. It's not something you're born how to do. It's a defense mechanism, a wall, a line, whatever. Underneath the vacant stares and non committal shrugs there's something much bigger than anything boiling.
My point being, indifference can save you. Save you from harsh words and nasty blows. Save you from hatred. From wanting to just allow yourself to love someone , love them so much, all the while knowing that the specific person, well, they don't exist. Pathological liars, charming manipulators. Who you love is your own perception. May be who you want to love is yourself.
Blood may be thicker than water. But so is vodka.
My point is, indifference doesn't break you.

Find what you're afraid of most...

"Find value in what we've been taught is worthless. Find good in what the world says is evil [...] I wish the whole world would embrace what it hates. Find what you're afraid of most, and go live there" - from Invisible Monsters by Chuck Palahniuk.

Because these words seems to be haunting me, keep coming back to me in some form or another. And I honestly do think it makes sense. To try and do the things you're afraid of the most.
Because ironically, the things you really want to be doing the most, your hopes and your dreams and your plans... they terrify you. They're the monsters hiding under your bed, the skeletons hiding in your closet. Your screech in the dark.
Because you're afraid of failure. Because you're afraid that if you fail, you have to start rebuilding your hopes and your dreams and your plans, your whole life up from scratch.
'T comes with the whole other side of the penny, as they say. And it's scary as hell and incredibly lonely, exposing yourself to yourself. Did that come out right?
And I guess living on the edge is not doing 'crazy', 'different' things. It's giving in to your dreams and plans and following them no matter what, with the possible risk of coming back with your tail between your legs , having to start all over again.
Being yourself, well, it's not that easy. Having to own up to your faults and accept all the things you don't like about yourself, it's shit but it's growing up.
Try to be as untrained as possible. Find things out on your own, on your own terms.
Learn how to learn.
And do the things that scare you the most.

Longing.

I dream of quiet mornings with the sunlight streaming in, warm and silent. I dream of walking around in socks, hair tousled up. Silence. I dream of space. My very own home. And I do make it a point to try and travel as much as possible. I want to discover some corner of the world where I feel like I belong. Maybe it'll be Paris I'll fall in love with, next October. Or maybe it'll be 'lil 'ol Florence. Maybe San Diego. hmm... I just want somewhere where I can be on my own. And I have people pointing out how much it is I hold back. How anti-social sometimes I can be. The truth is, I'm not one of those people who just warms up to anyone. Not anymore. The truth is, there's such a small amount of people worth knowing, out there. If you had to pick between spending your time on your own or being surrounded by drunk, high, or superficial people, which one would you choose?
The fact is, I think some people are meant to be on their own. And I think I'm one of those. And how I feel is not bitter about this, at all.
I just need space. And silence.

Ground teeth and subtle growls

I'm thinking about how I hate how patronising people can be. How they think they can judge you, your life, and fool everybody else into ignoring the fact that by following your life they're running away from theirs. I hate how you feel when you know you're supposed to give a shit about what some people think but you're completely indifferent. How this little fact still makes you feel a bit like shit. So detached. Plastic. To keep the anger from bubbling over and keep yourself from screaming Fuck off, fuck off, fuck off...!!! like some deranged patient.
I hate how you're supposed to be somebody else's satisfation. Why is it that we spend more time fighting for what we're already supposed to have than trying to achieve something else? When did our lives stop being our own and become common property?
Jesus H. I'm thinking I just dislike most people in general.
And your word of the day is ... Misanthropy...

The joys of being half in love

I am falling in love. I know that, I can't help it and I don't want to. People are always trying to get me to worry about how I can't go twelve hours without a computer. How I freak out without my cell and how I've been gushing about upgrading it to a blackberry so as to have Internet access all the time. But see, beautiful, wonderful things happen on the Internet.
Like today.
Here I was, feeling fresh and perky after about my fourth coffee, browsing about, reading 'Pygmy' reviews ( because it is a given fact to anyone who knows me that I have a platonic crush on all that's Chuck Palahniuk) and I stumble upon some site that's going on about authors that are similar the The Mighty in style.
And then I come across the name Denis Johnson.
I very cynically google him up, rush to the quotes section and this is what comes up;
"She had nothing in this world but her two hands and her crazy love for Jesus, who seemed, for his part, never to have heard of her."
— from Tree of Smoke.
"How could I do it, how could a person go that low? And I understand your question, to which I reply, Are you kidding? That's nothing. I'd been much lower than that. And I expected to see myself do worse."
— from Jesus' son.
"Does everything you touch turn to shit? Does this happen to you every time?" The latter struck because I can totally assimilate. Sometimes. More often that I'd like to admit.
And so... if the rest of today turns out to be shit, I'll still be fine because of this.
Yes,I'm off to Amazon.com.
And yes, I'm actually giddy over this.
I very un-sarcastically wish you a happy, happy day.