Squatting infants on sidewalks.
I think it's always healthy to have a good cry. Wow, what a melodramatic way to start a post. It's been raining here for at least two and a half days so maybe that's why. Rain sure does make China look ten times dirtier, and me ten times more paranoid. There's nothing like watching a smiling parent watch their infant squat and pee on the sidewalk, RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF A BUNCH OF RESTAURANTS. So now I think of that when I see puddles.
On top of that, everything becomes soppy and drooping and grey. Nothing a few funny youtube videos can't fix. I'd recommend HowToBasics for anyone who would like a little humor, violence, and I-don't-know-why-this-is-happening.
I can hear some of the people on my program down the hall. They're a bunch of alcoholics. I'm glad I avoided that bandwagon a long time ago or maybe I'd be like them: sleep deprived, possible cancer in the near future, etc. etc. etc.
I kind of wish my roommate gave more of a shit about me. Why am I always giving and never getting? I'm sure that's not entirely true and I'm probably just being a brat, but it's nice when someone asks how something of yours went, you know? Even if it just means that they remembered, at least they're willing to take the time away from their own little world to learn about your own. Instead, my roommate spends all her time on all of her fucking electronics talking to her boyfriend. There's no point in coming to China if you're going to try so hard to be somewhere else all the time. All. the. time. I get that she misses him, but she literally talks to him every chance she gets, even if it means missing out on other things outside of the dorm.
Maybe I just don't get it well enough. Clingy isn't my thing. It never has been because I've always felt like no one needed me, so if I became too attached to anyone else I'd be setting myself up for disappointment and abandonment. I'm such a girl, confessing to this website that anyone can see like it's a diary. Sometimes I pretend like this will someday go somewhere. Like I have some insight that ten million other people haven't had in the past day and everyone will check in to see what's new in my world, what else I've discovered about my life and these places. And then I think about how silly that is. No one reads this and it's probably best. I can get mean, judgmental, ignorant, wanton, dramatic, the list goes on.
I'd like to say something about Man of Steel, but I can't think of anything, which is odd. I've been so far away from mainstream things for so long. It's better that way. I'm not good at keeping up with Youtube videos and that stuff. I want to go to this antique market soon and get a Buddha ring. I want to remember this trip when I leave, see the past every day on my finger, even if no one else but the other 17 people understand. No one will ever understand this experience of mine.
No one will understand how much I change every day, how much they change or should be changing. It's all about the experience. My ex-boyfriend ended up transferring colleges a semester after we broke up (not because of that though, I think) and when he unexpectedly came to visit a year after we lost touch, I saw how much he hadn't changed and in that, how much I'd changed. I was sad for him. He was going to be a junior and had still never been to a college party, not that that should matter, but I knew he was a little afraid of them and thought that maybe somewhere in that year he would've branched out a little. Tried something knew, made some friends that he wouldn't normally make, grown up a little and stopped making weird screeching noises. I kid you not, he made screeching noises. Instead he joined a language club without knowing the language at all, and was done after that.
Some people take longer to progress that others. Looking at people around me, I could definitely be seen as still progressing compared to others as well. He's happy with his life, but I wasn't happy with how different our lives were because I'd changed too much between when we'd first met and whatever point we were at.
I feel like sooner or later when I go back to read these I'm going to shake my head and wonder what the hell was going through my mind. I'll probably wonder if I was high at the time or drunk or listening to a good song or maybe a sad one. Then I'll contemplate deleting these entries because no one should be subjected to this kind of rambling, at least not from a 20 year old girl who still knows so little. And then I'll laugh because no one's going to read these and hopefully I don't delete these because I need to remember. If I forget how far I've come, then I won't believe in how far I can go, and which path to take, and that even if I take the wrong one, they all eventually end up back somewhere somewhat familiar. Not to be all philosophical and shit, but the leaves on the tree may change colors and fall off, but it's still a tree with the same roots.
On top of that, everything becomes soppy and drooping and grey. Nothing a few funny youtube videos can't fix. I'd recommend HowToBasics for anyone who would like a little humor, violence, and I-don't-know-why-this-is-happening.
I can hear some of the people on my program down the hall. They're a bunch of alcoholics. I'm glad I avoided that bandwagon a long time ago or maybe I'd be like them: sleep deprived, possible cancer in the near future, etc. etc. etc.
I kind of wish my roommate gave more of a shit about me. Why am I always giving and never getting? I'm sure that's not entirely true and I'm probably just being a brat, but it's nice when someone asks how something of yours went, you know? Even if it just means that they remembered, at least they're willing to take the time away from their own little world to learn about your own. Instead, my roommate spends all her time on all of her fucking electronics talking to her boyfriend. There's no point in coming to China if you're going to try so hard to be somewhere else all the time. All. the. time. I get that she misses him, but she literally talks to him every chance she gets, even if it means missing out on other things outside of the dorm.
Maybe I just don't get it well enough. Clingy isn't my thing. It never has been because I've always felt like no one needed me, so if I became too attached to anyone else I'd be setting myself up for disappointment and abandonment. I'm such a girl, confessing to this website that anyone can see like it's a diary. Sometimes I pretend like this will someday go somewhere. Like I have some insight that ten million other people haven't had in the past day and everyone will check in to see what's new in my world, what else I've discovered about my life and these places. And then I think about how silly that is. No one reads this and it's probably best. I can get mean, judgmental, ignorant, wanton, dramatic, the list goes on.
I'd like to say something about Man of Steel, but I can't think of anything, which is odd. I've been so far away from mainstream things for so long. It's better that way. I'm not good at keeping up with Youtube videos and that stuff. I want to go to this antique market soon and get a Buddha ring. I want to remember this trip when I leave, see the past every day on my finger, even if no one else but the other 17 people understand. No one will ever understand this experience of mine.
No one will understand how much I change every day, how much they change or should be changing. It's all about the experience. My ex-boyfriend ended up transferring colleges a semester after we broke up (not because of that though, I think) and when he unexpectedly came to visit a year after we lost touch, I saw how much he hadn't changed and in that, how much I'd changed. I was sad for him. He was going to be a junior and had still never been to a college party, not that that should matter, but I knew he was a little afraid of them and thought that maybe somewhere in that year he would've branched out a little. Tried something knew, made some friends that he wouldn't normally make, grown up a little and stopped making weird screeching noises. I kid you not, he made screeching noises. Instead he joined a language club without knowing the language at all, and was done after that.
Some people take longer to progress that others. Looking at people around me, I could definitely be seen as still progressing compared to others as well. He's happy with his life, but I wasn't happy with how different our lives were because I'd changed too much between when we'd first met and whatever point we were at.
I feel like sooner or later when I go back to read these I'm going to shake my head and wonder what the hell was going through my mind. I'll probably wonder if I was high at the time or drunk or listening to a good song or maybe a sad one. Then I'll contemplate deleting these entries because no one should be subjected to this kind of rambling, at least not from a 20 year old girl who still knows so little. And then I'll laugh because no one's going to read these and hopefully I don't delete these because I need to remember. If I forget how far I've come, then I won't believe in how far I can go, and which path to take, and that even if I take the wrong one, they all eventually end up back somewhere somewhat familiar. Not to be all philosophical and shit, but the leaves on the tree may change colors and fall off, but it's still a tree with the same roots.