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The F Word

Faith - not wanting to know what is true.

Friedrich Nietzsche

When I think about it carefully, my elation on this tumultuous joyride is, by all standards and diagnosis, unfounded. Holding on stubbornly to the notion that doing it wrong is better than doing nothing? Oh yes. That’s it. For all I know, I might be blinded by faith, confused by temporal remedy, misdiagnosed with intelligence, misled by facts and misguided by optimism. The wind I am feeling in my hair and the adrenaline pumping through my every capillary might be a sign that I am gliding down a slippery slope. But I’d like to think that at the end of the ride, or tunnel, there is always a soft turf of evergreen, or light. I’m inclined to think that twenty seven years of breathing and nurturing counts for something, even if it is founded on impalpable content. The compass of my conscience and the enormity of my existence - if this is not true, what else is?

Combat and Pillows

It was intense.

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Spring

There are cloudy and confusing days, and then there are days like today. The weather is glittery and warm. On days like this I feel like I own the world. Being alone is a luxury that I could seldom afford nowadays. Claustrophobic antsiness lead me to the lake, into an open space and open sky and a lone seagull. Green grass, kissing couple, roller-blades, colors, photographic moments, scampering kids and all things bright and free. Geneva is beautiful when the weather is kind. So beautiful it makes me sigh. In appreciation and in fear. I sat on the brink of a stone edge and stared into the sky, the wind running through my hair felt like something from my childhood. It’s a perfect day for flying kites, daddy would say and I would grin. It felt almost wrong to be this happy. Dangling knees and a perpetual smile was all I could do. My sensitivity to sensory pleasure is heightened and urgent, almost explosive. I remember once telling a friend about my theory of proportionating happiness. I think today was a day of positive gain. I felt like  dipping my toes into a private pool of elongated serenity, perhaps the ripples will carry me through some harder days to come. I thought of many things. But they all seemed irrelevant to the weather. All roads lead here, it’s queer isn’t it.  I looked up and saw a kite, with a long colorful tail.

I live for days like these.

Chapter Three

It’s too easy to be condescending when you’re perpetually stuck in your safety zone. From the flimsy pedestal that you’ve placed yourself upon, it is not sympathy, but merely a badly hooded superiority that you are feeling. Do not judge my choice, for you are not qualified to decide my purpose. Do not take my friendly smile as a sign of admission, it is my principle to not engage in fruitless debate. Do not try to charm me, I know more tricks than you’ll ever learn. Do, however, take your own advice and “stop being a donkey”, someday maybe we could even have some fun out of our differences. You know I do not mind mud fights, don’t you?

Make-up

Somewhere in between my third gum of the day and applying eyeliner I decided to let it go. The game is getting confusing and I am bored. The murmuring lips screams for a color so red, I should have seen all the warning signs. There was nothing innocent about the breakfast invitation, I dissected the message behind that tug and twirl like a seasoned detective. We smeared my eyeshadow while trying to look into eachother’s eyes, I blame shu uemura’s smokey eye effect. And the cocktail dress. I remember the circling movements on my neck and the angry phonecall from 1000 miles away. The blusher was irreversibly superfluous.

I will miss you, you know?

I know. We should be friends.

He smiled. I applied the last touches to my lips, wiped off the remnants of charcoal below my eyes and my overclouded (overcrowded?) heart, slipped on a little black dress and stepped out of the door. Should all acquaintance be forgot?

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Two Dead Plants

I removed a dead plant from my room today. A month ago I threw away another dead plant which was a gift from a very good friend. Two dead plants in two months, what does that say about me?

To put it simply, I’m exhausted. Between a day job, playing in two bands, a club to run, the editor of a newsletter, table tennis, salsa lessons, french course, a personal life and other engagements I sometimes find myself miraculously entangled in, no wonder I turned into a plant killer. There is an infinite expanse of weariness in me that I’m not dealing with. Or I simply do not have the time to. I’m neglecting my commitments in the flat. By the time I get home, I’m always too tired to take care of things like bringing out the thrash and other house chores. And I know I should know better than this, having lived with other people for the past six years of my life.

The thing is, I know I’m doing my best. In what? I’m not so sure. To forget, to fill-in-the-blanks, to stretch my boundaries, to test my limits, to feel fulfilled, to feel, to un-feel, I don’t know. Maybe a little bit of each. And I’m happy in a wretched masochist way. I have this unquenchable need to be on the go or else I feel like I’m withering away, or not doing enough. It saps away my spirit, but I don’t know how else to live.

And I miss home. Distance and time difference is a bitch. Bro just started working a few weeks ago and I’m anxious to know how is he doing. I promised to talk to him when I am free but haven’t yet so far. The nagging feeling that I’m missing out on one of his most important milestone is gnawing me inside.

I’m going to Japan in six days but I’m not thrilled about it, I’m more worried about all the things I have yet to do before I depart. Even while I’m writing this, I have a million and one thing going through my mind. I want a crafted post, a thoughtful one, but all I can manage right now is incoherence and depthless laments. Again, I know I can do better than this. And it pains me to realize that in the course of trying to do the best for everyone else, I end up sabotaging my very own passion. Isn’t it an irony that we never really live for ourselves no matter how hard we try to convince ourselves otherwise?

I’m trying to carve out my own path in the world and its both challenging and exciting, I know. And did you notice how many I-knows I have used in this post? A-ha, right there. The heart of my issues. The truth is I never really know, I just get pretty damn good in convincing myself that I do, and then armed with this naivete I enthusiastically embark on one after another merry-go-rounds until my head starts spinning and my orientation gets wobbly and confused. Fun, isn’t it? The fact of the matter is, I need to prioritize. I need to think more and do less, to hell with whatever ‘winning theory’ all those conceited pseudo millionaires try to stick down my throat.

And I need to sleep, like… right now.